Ends and Beginnings
by Kayla Gayle
Summary: After 19 chapters, untold characters and many words I have finished this story-FINALLY! Read and review for there will be sequals. I'm not quite finished with Nick yet.
1. Meeting Gilda

Ends and Beginnings  
  
By Kayla Gayle  
  
Disclaimer: Standard issue applies here—I do not own them, if I did the third season never would have happened and it would still be on the air. Oh well....  
  
However, I do own the characters of Carey, Esme, and the other Reno Vamps. Do not use without permission, if you please.  
  
I have been reading FORKN Fan Fic's for a while now and have never posted, so some of what may have been written may creep in. For great fics on this subject, thanks to Mel Mosher's site, Mr. Happy's site and of course, Susan Garrett, who is possibly the best of the best of Forever Knight writers. I owe her Vampire's Anonymous series a great debt.  
  
Timeline is after Last Knight. Oh yes, this could be considered a kind of Dark Knightie story. N&NPakers may want to leave now, though she's treated with great respect.  
  
Rating is most likely PG-13.  
  
Enjoy. Constructive criticism allowed, flames are not. This is a VAMPIRE story after all....  
  
**CHAPTER ONE**  
  
The Raven was crowded that night. The thump of the techno music that LaCroix had been playing as of late was appreciated by the crowd—mortal and immortal alike. The one person in the club who was not seemingly having a good time was the tall blond man sitting in a back booth, sipping a glass of red wine.  
  
Or rather, bovine. Nicolas De Brabant—a.k.a. Nick Knight—had given up on human blood long ago. Fed up with being a creature of darkness, he wanted to walk in the light, to be mortal once again. He thought he had that chance this go around, for the coroner Natalie Lambert had been helping him to come back across.  
  
Now all was changed. Nat lay in a hospital, the victim of a mugger who stopped her, as she was about to enter Nick's loft. Or at least, that was the story Nick told IA, and Nat had backed him up, when she woke up and was coherent. His "father" could not bring himself to stake his "son". And it was LaCroix who flew Nat to the emergency room and then disappeared before anyone knew what was about.  
  
Tracy too was alive—sharing Nat's room, by coincidence or not. Backup had arrived in time to save her, the hospital had her records crossed with another's. Her father threatened to sue the hospital, and the uproar put more regulations into place to make sure that it did not happen to anyone else. To add to it all, Don Schanke was still living. He had been comatose since the plane crash. He had been mistaken for another, for Schanke had left his seat. He had just awoken several weeks ago, still shaky with his memories but still Schanke. Janette had left word as well; she was in her beloved Paris. Her mortal charge was with relatives of Robert's.  
  
So all should have been well in Nick-land, but it was not. Pending investigation of the Lambert issue, as the Captain said, Nick had been suspended. Not permanently, he was assured. Just a temporary measure.  
  
Nick took another sip out of his glass. He grimaced at the taste. Since tasting Nat's blood, the beast had wanted to take control. He felt a light tap on his shoulder and he turned to see a female vampire standing there.  
  
"Hi," she said, brightly.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"My name is Gilda MacGuffin. And you must be the infamous Nick."  
  
Nick regarded her. Like all creatures of his type, he had a fantastic memory. Gilda just was not familiar.  
  
"No," she laughed, knowing his thought train. "We've never met. However, everyone knows you—and your quest."  
  
"If you've come to poke fun, I'm not in the mood," warned Nick.  
  
"Not poke fun." She said, as she gestured toward the empty seat opposite Nick. "May I join you?"  
  
A shrug from the noncommittal detective and the woman sat.  
  
"I just wanted to talk with you."  
  
"About what?" asked a wary Nick.  
  
"Do you really wish to become mortal? Or just regain your humanity?"  
  
Nick thought about this a moment. Gilda continued.  
  
"Listen, I was brought across in 1304, not too long after yourself. It was in northern England. I too know the pressure the church pressed on us back then. You considered yourself a good Catholic; something that you thought lost when you came over. You were a knight of the crusades, after all. Going after the infidels in the Holy Land, questing for God and country."  
  
Silence from across the table. Gilda sighed.  
  
"You wish to atone for your sins, to save your soul. You can do that all, Nick. As a vampire."  
  
He looked up at her at that.  
  
"Tell me, do you use your—um—'special skills' often? Do you fly to a crime scene? Use your senses to help those in need? How many cases would you have solved, Nick, if you were human? Hmm? Think about it—no dramatic rescues, no hearing cries for help...and as for danger, well, you would have been dead. How many times have you been shot, or almost killed by a, how do you say, perp?"  
  
Nick shook his head. "That was different. I was trying to..."  
  
"No, you just don't want your soul to be dammed. That is that medieval thinking once more rearing its ugly little head. You can _still_ pray, Nick. Just not near any crosses. And fooling mortals into thinking you're one of them is a worse lie. Your wanting to be like them nearly cost two partners their lives."  
  
"One."  
  
She shook her head. "Two. If you were mortal, you never would have solved the case that put your first partner on that plane. And if you had, you could have gone yourself. And your coroner friend, whom you claim to love? You were about to bring her over, make her what you despise. And poor Janette! She was mortal, you brought her across as well, against her wishes."  
  
Nick had the grace to blush. It was all true, but who was this? Had someone sent her?  
  
"No, you like being a vampire. You like the power, the glory, just not the killing. You can be a happy vamp without committing murder, you know. You can drink human blood as well..."  
  
"That is what keeps me from coming across," he said, parroting Nat's words.  
  
Her laugh sounded like ice tinkling in a glass.  
  
"No, Nicholas. That is what keeps you alive, as it were. You are constantly hungry, are you not? That means you can lose control too easily. Human blood can be acquired without the hunt. I have a friend, and you have been in Toronto too long. All your human friends know about our existence. The sooner you leave, the more they live."  
  
She handed Nick a business card—it belonged to someone named Cary Shelley. The address was Reno, Nevada. Suddenly a light shone in his brain, she was a type of Enforcer. This was a warning. Veiled—but a warning. Gilda rose to leave, touching a hand to her flame-colored hair. She held her hand out and Nick, ever the 12th century persona, kissed it. It earned him a smile as she kissed his cheek.  
  
"Heed my words well, Monsieur De Brabant. Adieu."  
  
And she was gone, leaving behind a quite astonished vampire in her wake. 


	2. Saying Goodbye

ENDS AND BEGINNINGS  
  
By Kayla Gayle  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own them, just use them for my own purposes. Permission to archive to any of the known sites.  
  
All reviews welcome, keep the flames low.  
  
Yes, this is sappy. But I had trouble with this transition chapter, sorry(. Future chapters will be more up to snuff. And I will update a little more regularly; I'm moving the beginning of June and have been ill as well, so sorry about the long time between postings.  
  
A little history: yes I know Nick, and probably Gilda, would never use the version of the bible that I used, however, I think that this version gets the point across.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
**CHAPTER 2**  
  
Nick glanced over at the clock on the bedside table: 3:30pm. He sighed. Since his lecture by Gilda the previous night, he had not been getting a lot of sleep. What she said weighed heavily on his mind. Did he like being a vampire? Was it really that? He tossed away the covers and shuffled to the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror.  
  
Did his being a good cop have to do with his abilities? He thought back upon all the cases he had solved. He had picked up things with supernatural hearing, used his unusual strength when he had to. Then if he liked the fringe benefits of vampirism, what did he not like?  
  
He walked back into the bedroom and began picking an outfit for that night. All the while he was in the shower, shaved, dressed and prepped he thought about it. It bothered him.  
  
Nick walked down the stairs of his loft and into the kitchen. He opened the door to the fridge and stood staring at the green bottles. This was the key, the thing that was preventing him across. After a moment of indecision, he took a bottle and uncorked it. The he went over to the divan to sit. He took a quick drink and the phone rang.  
  
"Yeah, Nick Knight. I'm either in bed or incommunicado. So if you want to leave your name and number, go ahead."  
  
_"Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man. Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, A being darkly wise, and rudely great; With too much knowledge for the skeptic side, With too much weakness for the stoic's pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest; In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast; In doubt his mind or body to prefer; Born but to die, and reasoning but to err; Alike in ignorance, his reason such, Whether he thinks too little, or too much; Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; Still by himself abused, or disabused; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled: The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!"  
_  
Nick nearly dropped the bottle. That was Gilda's voice, reciting Alexander Pope. The name of the poem escaped him and he rose to the bookcase and pulled one from the shelf. He opened it and found it: from Epistle II—An Essay on Man.  
  
Nick went back to the sofa and stretched out. _'Know then thyself'_, did he really know himself? He had been wore out and cynical when Janette brought him over, sick of all the killings in the name of God. Was he a force for good, or for bad? Was his 13th century morality, steeped in religion, to blame? The phone rang again and again Nick let the machine take it. It was Gilda again; damn she was haunting him now. But the message was a little different:  
  
_"Unto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness: He is gracious, and merciful, and righteous. Well is it with the man that dealeth graciously and lendeth; He shall maintain his cause in judgment. For he shall never be moved; The righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance. He shall be afraid of evil tidings: His heart is fixed, trusting in Jehovah. His heart is established he shall not be afraid, Until he sees his desire upon his adversaries. He hath dispersed, he hath given to the needy; His righteousness endureth for ever: His horn shall be exalted with honor. The wicked shall see it, and be grieved; He shall gnash with his teeth, and melt away. The desire of the wicked shall perish."_  
  
Now it was Psalms 112, albeit a little different from the version he had learned. Was he a light in the darkness? Was he gracious, merciful, and righteous? No. 'Well, why not?' said a small voice inside his head. He had tried to live an upright life, or as upright as you could get and need blood to live. Was the police force possibly to blame for all his angst? Was theology? As it was, he saw death nearly everyday and all his mortal friends were in the hospital because of him.  
  
But what would he do? He had enjoyed teaching; maybe he could do that again. How could he be true to himself? He took another swallow of cow and picked up a remote and turned on the television. CNN was on, 24-hour news. Nick half listened to the stories, the top stories had passed and they were doing their fluff pieces.  
  
"A cold spell in the northern US has left many street people without shelter. With the recent budget cutbacks, more and more shelters are being forced to turn people away."  
  
They then showed a picture of several woman and their children, waiting outside for a place to stay the night. Nick sat straight up. The rest of the piece was more of the same. Then it hit him—the De Brabant Foundation. _'He hath dispersed, he hath given to the needy'_. He thought about Jennie and Topper, all the homeless souls he had let share his basement. Maybe he could do something for them?  
  
Nick put the bottle down, rose, and walked over to a desk in the corner. He turned on the computer that sat there and composed a little note to Aristotle...  
  
Nearly three hours later, Nick shut down his computer. The e-mails had been sent, the letters written, plans made. He walked into the kitchen, poured himself another drink and pushed the button for the elevator.

The 96th Precinct was bustling that night. It was a full moon and it seemed to bring out every crazy in Toronto. Captain Joe Reese sat at his desk and wished the events of the past few months had not happened. They sure could use Tracy and Nick right about now, not to mention Natalie Lambert. Try as they might, Grace and the gang at 26 Grenville just could not keep up with the brilliance that was the young doctor. Detectives kept poking their heads in all night, keeping him updated about their cases. Not expected was the silence that permeated the station and the figure that stood at the door, knocking. Talk began as soon as the figure entered the office.  
  
"Knight?" said Reese in amazement. "Your suspension is almost over, thank God. We could sure use you."  
  
"Actually, Captain, about that," the detective seemed out of sorts, as he walked to Reese's desk and laid a piece of paper on it. "I've thought it over a long time," he continued, as the Captain read the contents, "I think its time for me to move on. Nat...Dr. Lambert will be home soon, Tracey and Schanke will be out of the hospital in about a month. I'm still a suspect, even though I've been cleared. Trace and Don would make a good team." Nick swallowed. "So, it's final. Here's my badge and gun."  
  
Nick handed over his weapon, wrapped in a holster and, reluctantly it seemed to Reese, his badge. The Captain stood.  
  
"Knight, you don't have to do this. The talk will die down and you're one of the best we have in Toronto. I realize it's been a rough few weeks, but..."  
  
"You don't understand, Captain. I need to do this. I need to make a fresh, clean start away from here."  
  
Reese shook his head in resignation.  
  
"I sure wish I could change your mind."  
  
The former homicide detective shrugged.  
  
"I wish you could also."  
  
And with that, he walked out of the office and away from the precinct. He drove next to the hospital where his friends from this life were staying. Nat and Tracy had been put in the same room. With stealth (vampire stealth, Nick wryly noted) he was able to get into their room. Nat was sleeping, but Tracy was awake. Her eyes opened wide when she saw who it was and she mouthed his name.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, sotto voce.  
  
"I've come to say goodbye."  
  
Tracy started at that. Nick held a hand up.  
  
"It has to do with everything. I also have something I need to tell you, I think you should know." He took a deep breath. "I should have trusted you. You kept Vachon's secret, you would have kept mine."  
  
It took the blonde in the bed a few beats to respond. Then she slowly nodded, as if pieces of the puzzle had come together. A tear fell from her eye, remembering the dashing Spanish vampire she had come to fall in love with.  
  
"As you know from him, there comes a time for us to move on. It's my time. There are too many memories here, I need to make a clean break."  
  
"Does she know?" asked Tracy, gesturing to the sleeping woman in the next bed.  
  
"About me being a vampire? Yes. Me leaving? No."  
  
"I think you ought to tell her."  
  
Nick nodded. "One more thing, I think you and my old partner should team up. I've talked to Reese about it. You'll do good together, as long as you can stand polka music."  
  
Tracy nodded. Nick sighed and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"It has been good to know you, Tracy Vetter."  
  
He then walked over to the sleeping Dr. Lambert. This was going to be harder. He shook Nat and she turned over, sleepily, and with some problem, given the IV in her arm.  
  
"Nick, what a surprise," she said, weakly. Losing almost all her blood had made recovery difficult.  
  
"Thanks. How are you doing?"  
  
"I'll live," then she laughed at her joke. "And you?"  
  
Nick sat on the bed and told her of his visit with Gilda.  
  
"I think she's right, Nat. There are parts of me being whom I am that I like. The "superpowers" you could say. But I don't think I can keep up this looking for mortality. After all, I was going to bring you into the darkness, so things must not be all that bad." He tried to smile. "And it's just time to move on. Too many close calls, too many lost."  
  
"But you've made so much progress! You've held crosses, eaten food! It's just an addiction..."  
  
The vampire shook his head. "No, it's ingrained. Remember your experiments? The extra nucleotides? It's in our blood, literally. I've never told you this, Nat, but I've always been half starved most of the time I've known you. I think the reason I almost killed you was because of that. Plus, putting the monster to bed is getting harder. No," he said to her unspoken question, "I will not go back to killing humans. There must be a way to reconcile both man and vampire, and I will find it."  
  
Nat could make no sound, except for the tears running down her cheeks. Nick took her in his arms and held her for a good long while. Then he let go and left the room, the hospital, and got back into the Caddy. He had plans to make and Reno was a flight away. 


	3. Reno

DISCLAIMER: Sorry about the long wait, but I finally got moved into my new home—yeah. VIN is the idea of Susan Garrett—told you I owe her a debt.  
  
Once again, they belong to TPTB, not me. Well, except for Cary, he's all mine.  
  
**CHAPTER 3**  
  
Instinct told Nick that it was almost sundown. He yawned and stretched and looked around at the room where he slept. It was a large room, decorated in late Victorian. It was a little fussy for his taste, but the 4-poster bed was extremely comfortable.  
  
He arose from the bed and padded over to the heavy drapes and opened them. A blackout shade covered the window as well and Nick pulled it up. The sun was just dipping over the mountains in the background, lighting them up in a rainbow of hues. That, he thought, would be nice to paint. He sat in the window enclosure and thought about his week in Reno.  
  
Aristotle and Larry Merlin had taken care of all of the finer details of his emigration from Toronto to the US. There were a lot of forms to fill out and he had to update his passport. Arrangements were made for the sale of the loft and the storage of most of the items contained within.  
  
LaCroix was bemused by Nick's sudden decision, but approved, in his LaCroxian way. He actually saw his "son" off at the airport. The flight was long—departing at 6:30pm EST and arriving in Minneapolis at 7:45pm CST. Then he had a layover of an hour and a half before departing and arriving in Reno at 10:51pm PST. All together, it was a flight of over 7 hours, and it was not cheap—costing over $1200. He found a hotel shuttle and it took him to his room downtown at the Eldorado.  
  
Though it was late, Nick decided to call the number on the card he had been given. He wasn't really surprised when a chipper voice answered.  
  
"Good evening, S & G Enterprises. How may I help you today?"  
  
"Cary Shelley, please."  
  
"Yes, sir. One moment, please." A pause. "Sir, transferring call."  
  
The phone rang and was picked up by someone, who transferred him to someone else, who handed him off to a third person. Nick was getting exasperated when a male voice came on the line.  
  
"Yes sir, Mr. Shelley is expecting your call."  
  
"May I speak with him?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Knight, but Mr. Shelley is out of town on business. However, if you would leave your hotel and number, Mr. Shelley will contact you the moment he gets back."  
  
"And when will that be?"  
  
"Not sure, sir. I do not handle Mr. Shelley's travel arrangements. I am afraid that the one responsible for that is not working tonight. But I am sure Mr. Shelley will be back within the week."  
  
A sigh. "Do you know where he went?"  
  
"No sir. Mr. Shelley's travel plans are handled by another department."  
  
Around and around it went for almost 20 minutes, then Nick hung up the phone. He was not in a good mood when he called the automated VIN service. After listening to a myriad of menu choices (at $5.00 a minute), he finally found a source for sustenance, and they delivered.  
  
So, for the next three days, Nick explored the city. It was a 24-hour town, for nothing seemed to close. He got into a poker tournament at the MGM, saw the Superstars show, watched the acts at Circus Circus, and generally toured. The atmosphere of the city was as the American's would say, laid back and comfortable—a truly Western town.  
  
But there was another side: the Reno Gospel Mission and St. Vincent's were all within walking distance of downtown. Nick saw more than one homeless woman and child while on his nightly walking tours. He also learned to spot them at the Copper Ledge in the CalNeva, counting the change for the tax on the .99 cent breakfast, sans drink.  
  
So the time passed, at least it wasn't boring here. On Tuesday, he took the elevator up to the 20th floor and paused by his room. Someone, or something, was inside. He carefully swiped his key card and opened the door. There, sitting in a chair looking out the window was a figure. Nick (not really needing it, but out of habit) flicked on the light.  
  
The man in the chair smiled at him. He was drinking out of a water glass—human by the smell of it, and of a rather good vintage at that. The vampire had dark hair, hazel eyes and an average build. Nick could not tell his age, but sensed he was not very old at all. He was dressed immaculately in a charcoal gray Armani suit. Jeanette would like this one, Nick thought to himself. The man stood and approached Nick with his hand out, they stood about the same height.  
  
"Hi, sorry to knock you into a cocked hat. I'm Cary Shelley."  
  
Nick took his hand and smiled at the quaint expression of surprise.  
  
"I got called off at the last moment on some business and had to leave rather suddenly. I do apologize for having you cool your heels."  
  
The blond vampire shrugged. "Not a problem. I was out exploring."  
  
"What do you think of it?" asked Cary, with a small smile.  
  
Nick considered. "Interesting place."  
  
"So, it's near daybreak. Ready to go?" said the other, going to the sink and rinsing out his glass.  
  
"Go? Go where?"  
  
"To check out. You do need to go house hunting, don't you? And to get things settled, I was told of your plans. Plus all these folks will be coming up here around candle-light, and you don't want people to suspicion, do tell."  
  
All Cary got was a blank stare.  
  
"I do apologize for my slang, sometimes I forget myself," he grinned. "It's a failing."  
  
Nick waved it off, and realized what he had said was true. Due to his hours, people would wonder.  
  
"And where do I stay?" he asked.  
  
"Well, since I put you out, you can stay at my place. I do have a few extra bedrooms, and it is the least I can do."  
  
"Fine," said Nick, finally. If it had to be, it had to be. "Let me pack..."  
  
"All done."  
  
All done? Nick raised an eyebrow at that and a quick glance around the room told him it had been. That was cheeky.  
  
"They do have automated check out," Cary said, helpfully and indicated the phone.  
  
What was going on here? Nick walked to the instrument and within minutes was checked out of the hotel. Out the door, down the elevator and through the lobby they walked, in silence. Cary handed the valet attendant a ticket and the man soon enough brought around a brand new Lexus sedan.  
  
"No flying?" asked Nick, as he entered the plush interior of the vehicle.  
  
"Too many people," stated Cary in a very matter of fact voice.  
  
He drove carefully out onto Center Street and turned left at Fourth, then right onto Virginia. A sign indicated I-80 and he drove onto it going west. Several thoughts came to Nick at once, as he looked out the window. First, this was a vamp that had money and flaunted it. Second, the relaxed atmosphere extended to its undead citizens. Thirdly, who gave this guy the authority to decide that he needed to leave the hotel, _and_ take his luggage?  
  
A sigh caused the driver to look at him. Though it was dark, Nick's vampiric sight could make out the mountains up ahead. Cary spoke up, to break the uncomfortable silence.  
  
"So did you have a smooth flight?" he inquired.  
  
"I did, all the connections were on time, no turbulence. And you?"  
  
A sort of smile. "I own my own Lear, so my flights are always smooth."  
  
If you got it and could get away with showing it, Nick mused. "Well, that's certainly a different way of flying."  
  
Cary laughed. "You could say that. I use mortal pilots, different ones for each flight so they never suspect. Humans are none too bright anyway, when it comes to us. And I had to fly to South America, which is a little far to fly myself."  
  
He pulled off the highway and started south.  
  
"Reno is rather easy to navigate, Nick. 80 runs east/west, 395 runs north/south, and McCarren circles the city." He stole a glance at his passenger, who was still looking out the window. "You drive, do tell?"  
  
"I do," said Nick and explained about the Caddy.  
  
Presently, they turned off onto a side street or three and Cary stopped at the entrance to a housing development.  
  
"Gated community. This area is called Caughlin Ranch." He informed his passenger, as he pushed a button and the gate slid back. The car drove through and down several curvy streets before arriving at the end of a cul- de-sac. Cary used the remote to open the gate to his home and drove into the garage, as the door opened and the sun began to peep over the horizon...  
  
So now, several hours later, he was ensconced in a 19th century bedroom with modern amenities and at a total loss for one of the few times in his long life. His stuff had been already hung up and put away before he had entered the house. He got up and picked out his outfit and headed for the private bath. The tub was an old fashioned claw handled one, and the sink was a pedestal, but the stall shower was very up to date, indeed, with its four showerheads.  
  
Soon, Nick was dressed and ready—for what? He glanced at the time on the nightstand—6:38 p.m. Still at a bit of a loss, he exited the room into the upper hallway. He looked over the balcony to the foyer below, wondering. Then he heard the noise. It sounded like growling, but not of a vampire kind. What was going on? What had he gotten himself into? Was this why LaCroix was so amused. Come to think of it, Aristotle was a little shocked also, when Nick had told him where he was relocating.  
  
Undecided for a moment, Nick walked up to the room at the end of the hall—the master suite. He gingerly opened the door and his mouth dropped onto the floor in shock. 


	4. Bloodlines

All Reno Vamps and Bloodlines are mine—the rest belong to James Parriott and Co. Thanks, reviewers!  
  
I've changed some things—continuity problems, etc. Sorry!  
  
On with the show-----  
  
**CHAPTER 4**  
  
Now, it was a known fact in the lore of the Undead that corpses and animals did not get along—Dracula fiction and "children of the night" aside. Sidney, Nat's cat, never did warm up to Nick and he never had any real success with any other animal. So imagine his surprise to walk down the hall and into Cary's bedroom and see him playing tug-of-war with a large dog.  
  
On the bed, in gray flannel pajamas, Cary was pulling on one end of a rope and the German Shepherd was on the other end. Nick's mouth fell open. Cary glanced up, with a sheepish grin, and let go of the rope. The dog took this as a sign of success and moved toward the foot of the bed to chew on its trophy.  
  
"I've had her since she was three weeks old," said the dark vampire, as a way of explanation. He got out of the bed and pulled on an old-fashioned Banyan. It was a calico morning gown with flared skirts, rather popular a century ago, but not worn since then. Once again, Cary managed to date himself. "She also watches the house while I'm out, and I've trained her to keep watch on the maid."  
  
He slipped into a matching pair of bed shoes, and yawned.  
  
"I am, to acknowledge the corn, a rather late riser. But, never mind that, we need to find you a place to stay, and also for your—center, shall we say?"  
  
With that, he led the way out of the room and around the corner and down the wide staircase. This led into an octagon-shaped room and into a rather large room. It had red carpet on the floor and gray print wallpaper. The room was chock full of John Belter furniture—elaborate chairs, both a piano and pianoforte, two large fireplaces—Nick had not seen such a room since, maybe, Gone With the Wind.  
  
"Have a seat and I'll get breakfast."  
  
Nick sat in one of the velour chairs with the rosewood scrollwork. It was not to his taste and not a room you could be very comfortable in. Cary came back carrying two glasses and a newspaper. He gave one to Nick, who sniffed at it. It wasn't exactly blood--.  
  
"Plasma. Perfect early evening drink, sort of like a human's fruit juice."  
  
"No, thanks," said Nick, putting the glass down. Plasma, still human. Cary looked at him quizzically.  
  
"You know, Nick, plasma is donated nowadays. If you're really serious about this homeless thing, you'll learn that a lot of people down on their luck donate plasma for money—willingly. Taste it, you'll see."  
  
With another sigh, Nick picked up the glass of orangy liquid. He took a sip and had to admit it had a sort of fruity, sweet taste. He also picked up the donor, a single mother who had to get diapers for her baby and so she made the trip to the center to donate a pint. He supposed if he had to drink human, at least it was volunteered human.  
  
"See, told you. I wouldn't have given you regular, a good host knows their guests habits."  
  
Nick shook his head. This guy seemed to know an awful lot about him. Cary took out the classified section and opened it to real estate.  
  
"Lots of warehouses here. But I'll presume you want something close in, so people could get to it, right?"  
  
That did it.  
  
"How do you know I need a warehouse? Or about the center? Or about the blood?" demanded the former detective.  
  
A shrug. "The vampire community is not large, Nick. When a big bug such as yourself, with your age and money, decides to absquatulate, usually the leader of the community where he goes is notified. So, Aristotle notified me. Well, technically, he notified Andy, who told me."  
  
"So Andy is the leader of the community here?"  
  
"No, I'm the biggest toad in the puddle. Yes I know," he answered to a curious look, "I'm too young to have the position, someone not born in the woods to be scared by an owl should have it. I've heard it all, do tell. But that's a lot of bunkum. I am part of a codfish aristocracy, I'm death on diplomacy, and I ask no odds of anybody. Plus I was appointed by the Council, and they did have their reasons."  
  
A smile from Nick, and a question.  
  
"When were you brought across? Eighteen hundred and what?"  
  
"My slang again, huh? As I've said, and you might have surmised, I'm not very old." Cary said this with a bit of petulance, as if used to people saying things about it. "1897."  
  
That took the other aback. He suspected from his speech, Cary was not old, but just over a century? Usually the oldest vampire in the community would be the leader; hence LaCroix led the community in Toronto. So the undead in Reno must be awful young, or Cary must be awful ruthless.  
  
"So," said he, clearing his throat, "anything good in the paper?"  
  
Cary grinned glad for the change in conversation. He was used to having to explain himself but it did get tiring.  
  
"Yep. Here's one at 200,000 square feet, off Mill Street. That should be big enough."  
  
Nick nodded. "I've been doing some research on this. Most homeless woman are that way because they cannot find resources like child care, so they have to take minimum wage jobs to survive and that will not support them to find a flat."  
  
"So, you want not only shelter, but an entire program? Daycare, work programs, et cetra?"  
  
"I do. That way we can make these woman self-sufficient."  
  
"Makes sense." A thought. "So, will you live on property, or would you need a house?"  
  
"Since I can only help at certain hours, I think living on site would work."  
  
"No doubt," said Cary, dryly. "And only women and children?"  
  
"Yes. Maybe if there's a need, single fathers and children or families."  
  
"Well, with no religious affiliation, this should be easy to get past the City Council, who has to approve the zoning and permits."  
  
That thought had not occurred to Nick. Cary looked amused.  
  
"Don't worry. I know someone on the council who could get it pushed through. It's just that most of the shelters in town are affiliated with some kind of church. That makes it harder to get things approved, as the government does not want to give money to such groups. But you're going have an easy time at this, I reckon."  
  
"Are you always so helpful to vampires trying to make mortal lives easier?"  
  
"Let's just say that I think that a shelter for woman and children is a great idea and leave it at that, alright? And no, usually I do not want to make their lives any simpler then they have it."  
  
The rest of the evening was spent looking over the ads trying to come up with a good location. Cary, once you got through the reserve and the 19th century phrases, proved to be an agreeable host. Later, when Nick popped open a bottle of his favorite bovine vintage, Cary just blinked and said nothing, which was tactful.  
  
Around 3 in the morning, Nick got the grand tour of the house. What Cary called the keeping room (actually just a large family room), led through the circular sitting room into a formal front parlor, or living room. Through the foyer and past the front staircase was the library. Up the stairs, were four very large bedrooms, all with tremendous canopied beds and walls in print wallpaper. Cary's room had a unique feature: tucked away behind a door that Nick figured was a closet, was a staircase leading to a turret, a perfect landing and taking off place. Plus the front bedrooms led to a covered balcony which ran across the front of the house, another place which facilitated flying. A high brick wall that from the second floor gave a view of the city below surrounded the backyard. It also gave a nice cover for any special vampiric abilities. There were no flowers, for the yard was xeroscaped for the high desert environment. The back staircase led to the kitchen and a rear parlor off of this and then back again into the keeping room. In all, it was a home that fitted vampires very nicely, no one would ever suspect that a supernatural creature lived here.  
  
Soon enough, rosy fingered dawn came over the mountains to the east and that meant bed. Cary joked that he could never stay up past 7am.  
  
The next night, they went to dinner at one of Reno's better restaurants with a woman named Toni Ivey—the City Council member Cary knew. She was tall with raven colored hair and blue eyes, and was human. Nick never was one for such schmoozing, but Cary was very good at it. He used his devastating good looks along with all of his vampire seductive qualities to get this unsuspecting lady to plead Nick's case before the next meeting the next night. Nick attended this and made a good case, especially when they it was a purely secular venture. So, without any public debate he got his permits.  
  
The next step was finding a place. The building first mentioned by Cary turned out to be the best. It was a long building with office space and warehousing. The warehouse would be turned into the sleeping area, some of the offices would be the daycare, and the rest would be for other projects. Plus there was a grassy area that could be fenced in and made into a child's playground. Nick met with the people from Project Restart and they seemed grateful for his help. All the rest of the week was spent going over blueprints. His living quarters would be on the second floor, over the sleeping quarters, since they would be empty during the day. It was big enough for all his things and he even managed an inner office away from any windows. He still stayed at Cary's house, as it would take about a month to get everything habitable for anything at all.  
  
Speaking of Cary, Nick found out he owed the company S & G Enterprises. What they did there was still a mystery, but they had a nice office around the Longley Lane/Peckham Road area, only open nights, or second and third shift as they called it here in Reno. He worked from 8pm until 5am, vampire banker hours. They also got along famously for Cary was hard to rattle and nonjudgmental. Nick's longevity and what he had seen and done fascinated him, in turn. As an Eastern City dweller when he lived, Cary was enthralled by Nick's adventures around the world during the late 1800's, especially during the Civil War.  
  
By Friday of the next week, Nick needed some R&R from his plans. Everything was going smoothly, but he needed some excitement like he had gotten from police work. He thought wryly that he would not want to be a homicide detective in Reno, there was no real crime. Break-ins, car theft and other larceny went on, but not a lot of murder and mayhem. So he was amiable to Cary's suggestion of going out on the town.  
  
Where they actually went was a club called Bloodlines. Not for reasons Nick first thought, but named for the horses on the walls. It was a dance club, like The Raven, but not as Goth. It was sort of a vampire version of a yuppie bar, with a strict door policy. Cary had told him to dress and he was glad he had.  
  
The bouncer knew Cary and treated him with a kind of awed respect. Nick supposed that came from the fact that the dark vamp was the leader of the pack. Led by a door hostess to a table, they sat. A cocktail waitress came up. Cary ordered for them both, telling Nick for the time being to just drink regular until they knew him. Not liking it, Nick agreed. A bottle was soon set down and the bloodwine was poured. The vintage was excellent, the blood expertly cut with Bordeaux. They sat there watching the dancers when Nick noticed a slinky redhead and a blonde approach from behind Cary. A low, almost unnoticed growl in the elder vampire's throat alerted Cary to their presence. The redhead put both arms around Cary's neck and turned his head towards her for a kiss. Her friend sat next to Nick with a smile. Cary turned back.  
  
"Nick Knight, Jill Collins," he introduced the redhead. "And that's Sonya Modell, our southern belle."  
  
Jill took a seat next to Cary, still hanging on and laying kisses all over his neck. He untangled himself from her arms.  
  
"When'd you get back?" he asked her.  
  
"Yesterday. Don't you pick up messages anymore?" she pouted, as another vampire came up to the table.  
  
"Cary!" greeted the short Latin woman.  
  
He got up and kissed the other on the cheek. "Maria, how have you been?"  
  
"We just got back from New York, what a hassle." She looked around. "Paul? Where did he go?"  
  
A heavyset vampire came up, carrying a bottle.  
  
"Ty's newest," he explained to the group, as he held out a chair for the Latina and then sat.  
  
"Nick, meet Maria Ruiz and Paul Silasi. Paul, Nick was in Italy for the Renaissance."  
  
"Were you?" A moment of silence, as if he was trying to place Nick. Then a glimmer of recognition. "One of LaCroix's? I think we may have met."  
  
Nick admitted to that. Soon others came up until there were at least 20 bloodsuckers at the table, including Tyler Peery who owned Sangster Winery, maker of fine bloodwine since the early 1800's. Nick knew of Sangster Wines, they were sold at The Raven. Only two others made an impression on Nick. One was Alexi Borisnovo, who Nick didn't quite trust, for some reason. When asked what he did, he told Nick with a cold smile that he solved problems, but was not an Enforcer.  
  
The next vampire was an Enforcer. This was Colin—pronounced Nick was informed as Cole-in, like the appendage in the body. Three archetypal vamps of Colin's type—Sylvester, Josiah, and Trent, trailed him. Also a female Enforcer named Peg Hannlin, who spoke in a broad Scotch accent. Used to silent types such as the trio, Nick was stunned by Colin and Peg. Colin was charismatic, in his way and Peg was just loud.  
  
Then over came another female vamp whose eyes alighted upon Nick and made a beeline for him. She pushed Paul, who was sitting next to him, out of his chair. This caused the other to grumble and to grab another seat from the next table over. Cary, in conversation with Alexi and Colin, looked over.  
  
"Ah, I knew it," he said with a broad smile. "Nick Knight, Esme Ruto." 


	5. On the Town

DISCLAIMER: "Same as it ever was" – David Byrne.  
  
Some notes: thanks to many, many web sites. Knight Vision helped me to get more of a feel for everything---the downloaded clips are very helpful (come back, honeybat, come back). Bright Knight, Amy's Fan Site was also helpful for timelines (Nick was in SF in 1910, not the 1890's—but of course, who really knows about every moment of his time?). The web sites Darkness Embraced and Vampires Only, as well as the Sanguinarius web sites are very illuminating. I recommend that anyone writing about vampires of any kind really read this stuff.  
  
Anyway, they belong to TPTB, except the Reno crew. They are all mine and ever changing. Can't wait for the DVD set to come out around Halloween. Spoilers, or are they teasers for most every episode shown are interspersed within my story. Thanks for the reviews. Now, on with the show:  
  
**CHAPTER 5**  
  
"Enchante, Monsieur. You must be Nick," said she, in a slight French accent. "I've heard you described."  
  
"Enchante de faire votre connaissance," replied Nick, kissing her hand.  
  
"Merci."  
  
"I knew you'd two get along," smiled Cary.  
  
Nick would have blushed if he could.  
  
"So, do you like it here?" asked she, with a tone that implied that the question could be applied to Reno, Bloodlines or both.  
  
"Thus far," Nick answered, noncommittally.  
  
"Bon. Ou, logez-vous?" still in French. Then in English, "Where are you staying?"  
  
"With Cary."  
  
The blonde vampress raised her eyebrows at this and looked toward Cary, who shrugged.  
  
"His house is being built, Esme. Would you rather he stay in a hotel?"  
  
"C'est vrai," she admitted. "That's true." She turned her attention back to Nick. "I hope he's being hospitable."  
  
"He is," said Nick, in a cautious tone. What was going on here? "So, qu'est-ce que vous faites dans la vie?" asked he, changing the subject.  
  
"I own VamCom. It's a vampire online security firm," she said, to his puzzled look. "You have computer problems, identity problems—you come to us, vous comprenez. Reno requires police cards for any money or liquor handling, they check with the FBI and other government agencies. That could possibly be a risky problem and we do operate sans tamboures ni trompettes."  
  
"Like Larry Merlin."  
  
"Oui, the Bill Gates of vampire computer programmers," Esme acknowledged. "He's the best there is, and helped us with le commerce. He deals mainly in Canada and the East Coast. My firm does things mainly for the West Coast. We also deal somewhat with the Asian community. And how is your little venture coming along? Ca y est?"  
  
Since Nick needed certain legal documents, it only made sense that she knew about his plans. He told her about the building and the way that he was trying to work with the various service agencies in town. There was a definite need for a shelter, for a place to stay for the homeless. Esme nodded in agreement.  
  
"It is needed, Nick. I just wish we had something like that when I was younger, that you could run to when everything was destroyed," she said, wistfully. "That's why the Community is not against you building this thing."  
  
Glad to have another sympathetic ear, Nick outlined all his plans. Esme readily agreed to help, and even volunteered to buy computers for the center. After all, she pointed out, with the new millennium coming, everyone really needed to know how to run one.  
  
"And if you are nice to me, mignon, I will even get someone to teach a class, d'accord?"  
  
"Avec plaisir," smiled Nick.  
  
The reverie was broken by Paul, who leaned over to Nick and started asking him how Aristotle was. That started them telling stories about the different vampires they knew. Esme even knew a few—for instance, she knew Janette. They met it seemed during the French Revolution. Somehow that did not come as much of a surprise to Nick.  
  
The music changed and varied couples started getting up to dance. Esme looked at him and he knew what was coming. Sure enough, it came.  
  
"Voulez-vous danser?" she asked, coyly.  
  
Looking around, Nick saw everyone had gotten up to either visit someone else or to dance. He shrugged and resigned himself to this. He rose, helped Esme from her chair like a good noble, and they soon found themselves on the dance floor. The music was from the 1940's—big band. Nick never considered himself much of a dancer, but dancing was perhaps beside the point. Esme pulled in tight and he tensed a little. Too soon after Nat, too soon after Janette. Esme looked up at him; she was shorter than the coroner was, but taller than the other was. Unlike them, but like most of the women he had dated in the past eight centuries, she had blonde hair. Like them, she also had sapphire blue eyes. In a way, she reminded him a lot of Janette, less the seductress maybe, but they were strikingly similar.  
  
His partner interrupted his thoughts by asking about life in Toronto. He told her about the loft, The Raven, highlights of his job. The good things, not about anything recent. She asked after LaCroix.  
  
"Do you know LaCroix as well?" he asked, incredulously.  
  
"The vampire world is not a big place, Nick. If you're around long enough, and active enough in the Community, you usually meet everyone at one time or another, n'est-ce pas. Also, LaCroix is very old. Anyone over 2000 years is bound to be known, if just for that."  
  
Nick looked off into space. "Let's not talk about him, entendu?" He was surprised how easily he lapsed into French with her. He had not done that often with Janette, though she did it often with him.  
  
Presently the music changed over into something that might be played by The Raven's new management. He begged off the floor and led her back to the table. It was then that he noticed that everyone was making his or her good-byes. Paul clapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Ring me up if you want to talk and Cary's in a mood," he said, gently. He took the arm of his 'wife' Maria, as he called her, and left.  
  
"Hey, I've got a great deal on your variation. Call me and let me know, Cary's got the number. It's becoming more popular nowadays. Some of the new breed do not like to kill anything at all!" This from Tyler Peery of Sangster Wineries.  
  
"Have fun, sugar. Don't do anything I wouldn't. Or not," laughed Sonya, with an air kiss to his cheek.  
  
"Have Cary explain the rules if he hasn't already done so," the Enforcer, Colin, told him. "I want a copy for my records."  
  
"The rules?" asked Nick.  
  
"Yeah, rules. Signed and witnessed, thank you."  
  
"I didn't know there were written rules," said Nick, wondering when the Community decided to do this.  
  
"Welcome to Reno, my friend. It's a different world." Colin held out his hand and Nick took it, the first time in his existence he had done that with an Enforcer. In fact, if you had told him just yesterday that he would be doing it, he would have scoffed. Different world, indeed.  
  
Cary came up, Jill on his arm.  
  
"Ready to go?" he asked.  
  
Nick looked at Esme, should he or shouldn't he? Well, why not? A little female companionship might be just what he needed. He held a hand out to her and she gave a slow smile as she took it. Jill giggled, earning her a jab in the ribs from her date.  
  
They exited the club and the valet brought around Cary's car. The Caddy had just arrived and Nick had not yet had a chance to register it. Esme it seemed flew in, earning her a hard look from the Community leader and a hiss from her back at him. Jill had rode with Sonya and another vampire friend, Allison.  
  
"So the night is still young," Jill practically sang out. "Where to now?"  
  
No one had any real suggestions, so Jill suggested bowling. Friendly enforcers, all right. Signed rules and jobs for this rather preppy, affluent Community, ok. Dancing and hanging out in a nightclub, fine. But bowling? Nick's mouth dropped. It was no wonder every vamp in Canada had grinned when he told them about his destination. He could not even imagine LaCroix, Aristotle, Larry, Janette, Alma, or even Vachon (well, maybe Vachon) bowling. Vampires did not bowl—or at least not till now.  
  
Still stunned with the very suggestion of this very Schanke-like outing, Nick soon found himself at the Reno Hilton, which had 24-hour lanes. They received their shoes and found some of the heavier balls. It was nearly deserted, so no one thought twice about a 110-pound woman like Jill hefting a 20-pound ball. Nick had bowled once in his life, good old Donny had badgered him into it. Of course, he used to play bowls during the Renaissance, but that was not like this.  
  
They decided to play men versus woman. Jill turned out to be an excellent bowler, maybe that was why she suggested it. Esme was middling, with every throw she examined her manicure. Cary was not bad, but he probably did this a lot with the redhead now on the lane and lining up her spare, which she made.  
  
Nick decided that he did not fare too badly, considering. The girls won anyway, and Jill was not shy about letting the two males know it, as they got into the car once more. Nick decided that he liked this upbeat vampire. She had certain flair to her. It surprised Nick not one iota when she told him she was brought across in 1930 and had been a real 'jazz- baby' before then. She looked as if she would be at home in a cloche dress and a roadster with a flask of gin by her side and a boyfriend who owned a juice-joint. In fact, that was how she described herself to him, using 20's slang just as easy as Cary used Victoriana.  
  
Esme peppered her speech with French words and phrases, again reminding Nick painfully of Janette, or Erica, or even Alyssa (though she was Austrian). The one person she did not remind him of was Natalie Lambert—in no way, shape, or form.  
  
Since it was still early by their standards, only about 1am, Jill suggested they pick up a couple of movies to pop into the VCR. Nick found out then the difference between his former home and his new one—you could find a video rental store open this late. The foursome earned looks from the patrons of the store. Nick wondered briefly what they looked like to mortal eyes—2 very handsome men and 2 very beautiful women. Then he sort of snorted at his own vanity, though it was true.  
  
Jill led the way to the Classic aisle and found "The Blue Dahlia" with Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake. Esme picked out "Marie Antoinette" with Norma Shearer and Tyrone Power. Cary passed on everything, though he stopped at Martin Scorsese's "The Age of Innocence", with Michelle Phifer and Daniel Day-Lewis. He just sort of sighed and went on. Nick didn't pick out anything at all. "Interview With the Vampire" made him pause a moment and think about Emily Weiss.  
  
Soon they were back in the car discussing movies. Jill declared that she loved Alan Ladd and anything with him in it, even "Nevada Smith". She made the suggestion to Esme that if she fixed her hair differently; she could have that Lake look.  
  
"C'est con, impossible to do any work with," huffed up Esme, glancing at herself in Cary's rearview mirror and holding a hand to her hair. "You do remember, l'ami, that during World War 2, the government made her pull her hair back."  
  
"Oh, banana oil! What do I care about what the government did?" exclaimed Jill. "I think that the hairstyle's the cat's meow, and you are being a wowser."  
  
"By the horn spoons, stop. This is becoming a picayune conversation. Esme, she was just making a comment. And Jill, some folks are interested in mortal doings."  
  
That quieted everyone down and Nick blinked once or twice. Three different ways of speaking from three very different era's. This was going to be an interesting rest of the night. 


	6. Nick's Decision

DISCLAIMER: Maybe I should call this author notes? If you wish translations of the different lingo just review and ask and it shall be given. Oh, and October 21 is the date of the DVD release of the first season. Also, thank you Kristin for coming back online. Everyone needs to visit this site KnightVision.  
  
Again, TPTB thanks for the loaner.  
  
Up the ante on the rating for this chapter—maybe very strong PG-13. Nothing major, just strong suggestions.  
  
**CHAPTER 6**  
  
"He is a real sheik," this was Jill speaking of Alan Ladd. She sat with her feet up on the Chippendale divan, in Cary's lap with her head against his chest and his arms around her. She sounded and looked very content, as if there was not anywhere else she would rather be. Jill had kicked off her heels and her legs looked very long to Nick, who hadn't seen such intimacy in a while.

Nick himself sat on the matching camelback loveseat with Esme next to him. He had taken off his blazer and it was hung over the arm of the seat. They were watching the movie in the Library—really the dining room. However, as Cary told Nick, he did not need one, so he converted it. All around were tall, built in bookcases. One of the bookcases had some panel doors, and behind this was the entertainment center—television, VCR, surround sound system—the works.  
  
"Just look how Veronica Lake looks at him, like he's lunch or something," she continued and sighed.  
  
This movie was new to Nick, though it appealed to the detective in him. It was the first original Raymond Chandler penned for the screen and took many twists and turns. It concerned Johnny, the Alan Ladd character, who comes home from WW2 and finds his wife, Helen, has turned into a party girl. After a disturbing revelation about their late son, Johnny leaves and gets picked up literally by Joyce, the Veronica Lake character. Helen soon is shot, but by whom? Nick enjoyed the flick, a perfect example of film noir.  
  
Jill's chatter shattered enjoyment of the movie somewhat though. She had lived in Hollywood during the 1940's and knew a few of the stars. Cary kept telling her to hush, in a very soft way, punctuating each occasion with a kiss. These grew in ardor as the movie progressed, so Nick presumed that Jill had a reason in her mind to keep talking. However, he could not stop feeling he was on strange double date where one pair got along, and the other just sat. By the end of the movie, the dark haired vamp and his red headed date were completely enthralled in each other, not even noticing or even caring about the other couple in the room.  
  
They broke out of it, somewhat, when Esme cleared her throat. Nick could see the slight gold flecks in Cary's hazel eyes. Breaking off a vampire in the midst of passion could be very deadly to human and non-human alike. After all, vampires lived by seduction—their whole manner and being revolved around it. It was why human victims were so readily found, why they were so mesmerized by them.  
  
"There is a time and a place, tu trouves pas? Do you not think?" she inquired.  
  
"You are a wowser, Esme," shot back Jill. "However, you are correct." She pulled her date to his feet. "A ce soir, and have fun." She giggled at that and Cary gave her a very disapproving look. She replied to this with a kiss and they walked out. Soon a door was heard closing and then came a couple of barks, a whine, and a growl.  
  
Esme laughed at the sound. Nick stared at her, as she took the rewound movie out of the machine and popped in the other.  
  
"Jealous dog Cary has, n'est-ce pas?"  
  
Nick had to laugh at this, and realized that it had been a while since he really laughed. Esme came to sit back down and, with the remote, fast- forwarded through the ads and stopped when she saw the black and white MGM lion.  
  
"I would figure Jill liked Ty Power," remarked he.  
  
"Bien sur, however, she likes Cary better."  
  
Another small laugh from Nick.  
  
"I've noticed." He looked at her curiously. "And you?"  
  
"Like Cary? Romantically? Mon dieu, mignon, I don't even know if I like him as a vampire. Besides, cher, he is too beautiful, no?"  
  
"Unlike myself," cracked Nick, putting an arm around her and surprising himself by doing so.  
  
She thought a minute.  
  
"No, cher," she said, stroking his cheek, "you are handsome. Cary is pretty, and vain. Besides, Helena would keep me away if I even was so inclined."  
  
On screen, Norma Shearer as Marie Antoinette was just arriving in Paris. They watched a while.  
  
"She did a good job, but was way to old to play this part. After all, Marie was just 15 when she came to Versailles, and just 19 when she became queen."  
  
Nick agreed. "Robert Morley, however, does capture the essence of Louis."  
  
"Oui, he does. I always felt so sorry for him, and for her. What fun days, before the Revolution, and the styles created by Rose Bertin! All the fringe ruffles, lace, and tassels. Oh la la—the headdresses! All that flour and paste! Mon dieu! It is a good thing vampires do not get lice!"  
  
That got a laugh from the other, a real chuckle. They watched some more of the movie and Nick noticed that the grandfather clock read nearly 5:30, almost dawn. He felt the slight scrape of teeth and something moist on his neck, just above the collarbone. He sort of turned and was greeted with a very soft kiss to his lips. Nick responded to this for a moment, then pulled away. Esme looked at him wide-eyed.  
  
"Mon cher, did I do something wrong?" she asked, in a hurt voice.  
  
He looked away and sighed. "No, it's not you. It's me."  
  
She considered this and gave him a comforting smile. Nick noticed her perfume—some sort of oriental scent of jasmine and spice.  
  
"How so, mignon?" she asked him, softly.  
  
Another sigh. "It has been a while since I've been with another woman," he told her, honestly, to her raised eyebrows.  
  
"But, cher, with your charm and your looks, how could...I mean, it's just not in our nature."  
  
Nick got upset at that. Esme gave another soothing smile and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"Cher, tell me. I can see something bothers you, no?"  
  
"Oui," affirmed he.  
  
Esme pulled her legs up and put her arms around them, shut off the television, and gave a decidedly French gesture for him to go on. But could he? How could he explain about what happened the last time he was with a woman? Kissed one? That had been Nat, and look what happened to her.  
  
Of course, he reasoned, there was a bit of a difference—his partaking of any blood would not harm Esme. But the very memory of that night and the aftermath still haunted him. Could this undead beauty understand the love he felt for a mere mortal? The hell with it, he thought. If it ruined the night, so be it—que sera sera.  
  
"I was in love with a human back in Toronto, a very gentle but strong woman. She was trying to help me. Then a friend of hers committed suicide, and I thought I lost a friend as well, my human partner on the force. So one day she comes to me and asks me to bring her across. What could I say?" He rose from the settee and walked toward the wall, leaning on it. "I tried to discourage her, but my heart was not really in it. So, I took her, and as LaCroix would say, I took too much. She almost...died. And that was that." He turned to face her. "I left Toronto and came here, to find myself I suppose."  
  
Esme was very quiet and sat staring at him for quite some time. The grandfather clock chimed 6:30; the day was upon them. No light came through the heavy drapes on the window, though. Then she rose from her place and came to him, putting her arms around him and kissing him deeply.  
  
"I understand, non cher. Mortals have their own power over us that is why we try to avoid them. This woman, is she well?"  
  
"She's alive, and a resister."  
  
"I too was once in love with a mortal," admitted Esme, speaking now in French, as if English could not convey the story. "His name was Jacques. However, the temptation proved too much. I was just a fledgling then, and could not stop the thirst, so he did not survive the encounter. But I went on, as my maker told me to do. And so must you, you'll never be happy or whole until you move on. Remember her in your most cherished memories, mignon, but do not let them overwhelm you. You are strong, you have immortality—you too will survive. You hide too much inside, let the feelings out, let them guide who you are, what you want."  
  
Nick was silent, wondering at her words. For a moment he stood there, arms at his sides. Then he put them around her and kissed her, softly at first and then with more passion. Esme responded in kind. He gallantly picked her up and made his way to the stairs and then up and into his room. The dog was lying at Cary's closed door, looking very sad as only dogs can. Nick put Esme down when they reached his door at the end of the hallway.  
  
"Are you sure of this, mignon. I do not wish too push you too fast. You need time to heal, perhaps?"  
  
"I do, Esme. And the healing begins here," he asserted, closing the door. "Do you think you can cure the wounds?"  
  
She gave him a long, slow, seductive smile, kicking off her shoes and undoing the clasp at the back of her dress.  
  
"Cure, cher? That I do not know," she stated, stepping out of it. She grabbed his tie and led him over to the bed. "Ease, oui. Most definitely."


	7. A Little Something Different About the C...

DISCLAIMER: Once again, James P and Co have ownership, not I. Except for my characters.  
  
**CHAPTER 7**  
  
Esme turned in Nick's arms and glanced at the clock on the nightstand—9 am. She looked up at him and reached out to brush a stray blond lock from his face.  
  
"She must have been extraordinary, non?"  
  
"Who?" asked a rather drowsy Nick, fluffing up his pillows.  
  
"Natalie, your doctor friend. I saw it in your blood, cher. It must have been difficult to leave her."  
  
A sigh from Nick, who came to the realization that he sighed a lot.  
  
"It was, but it had to be done. As you alluded to, Esme, mortals who love vampires usually wind up dead or a member of our club."  
  
"Umm," agreed she. "One more factor, cher. The Enforcers—the Code _will_ be obeyed. Do they know of your Natalie?"  
  
Nick nodded. "They do. Nat made herself a friend to the Community during the fever scare we had. It killed off quite a few of our kind up there and she discovered the cause and the antidote. For that reason, she's given a pass."  
  
"As I said, mignon," concurred Esme, "an extraordinary woman."  
  
A thought came to Nick suddenly. "Speaking of Enforcers, Colin said something about rules and signing. Is this true?"  
  
Laughter from Esme, who kissed his neck.  
  
"Oui. A Cary Shelley Idea." This said with a bit of sarcasm. "There is this organization of vampires in New York, human for the most part. Anyway, Cary attended a coven house meeting there on one of his infamous whims. They had a list of rules they gave new members and this impressed him, so when he become leader here, he adopted them."  
  
Nick took note of the fact that whenever Esme made a long speech, she lapsed into French. The sound of his native language sounded strangely soothing to his ears.  
  
"So you actually have to do paperwork?" he prodded, remembering how much he disliked it.  
  
She nodded. "A contract, if you will. They bring out that pen that pricks your finger; they draw blood into the cartridge, and you sign you name with that. According to Colin, and I have no cause to doubt him, this binds you to the Community and all the regulations therein."  
  
"So you sign in actual blood?" asked an incredulous Nick, and she nodded once again. He shook his head, what had he walked into? "And if you don't sign?"  
  
Esme opened her cerulean eyes very wide. "They kill you." She sighed and drew his head down to kiss him, as if to banish any bad thoughts. "And it is not a pleasant death, either. You are made an example to the Community of what happens to rogues. Trust me, mignon, it is better to sign, and it's not that terrible." She was silent a moment, then—"Nick?"  
  
"Yes," he answered, playing with a strand of her pale hair.  
  
She pulled away from him and sat straight up. He put his hand in back of his head and smiled at her, watching her long hair play around her face. She was alluring as only a vampire could be, but she was not smiling.  
  
"This is very serious, mignon. Do not _ever_ tell Cary about your love for a mortal. If you do relate the tale, do not let him know she lives. In Cary's eyes, that is a capital offense—it breaks the first rule of the Code. And do believe me when I tell you, friendship aside, he will let Colin know and then God help your Natalie."  
  
"But—"  
  
"Nick, the Enforcers in Toronto will confer with the Enforcers here in Nevada and they will not spare her—no matter what her relationship with the Community. Colin is very inflexible in this matter; he will give no quarter. Worse, Cary and he could decide to give the case to Alexi, in which case even LaCroix couldn't save her. So please, for your sake and hers, mon cour—never breathe a word that you and she were lovers. Friends, tolerable. Lovers, no."  
  
Nick lay there quietly for a moment. His thoughts moved back on several remarks he heard Cary make in passing. If what Esme said was correct, he would need to tread lightly until he was sure of his footing.  
  
All of a sudden, he needed a drink. Pushing aside the covers, he reached for his pajama bottoms and slid on his slippers. Esme watched him curiously as he put his robe on and tied it around him.  
  
"Cher, are you alright?"  
  
"I'm thirsty." To which she pulled her hair seductively away from her neck in offer. "No, I need something stronger, perhaps."  
  
"Cary does have some curare down there."  
  
Nick chuckled at that. "I'm not that thirsty." He leaned over the bed and kissed her lingeringly. She gave him an intense look when he pulled back. "I'll be right back, would you like anything?" he asked, solicitously. She shook her head and Nick walked out of the room and down the back stairs to the kitchen.  
  
Cary's kitchen was a vampire's kitchen. It shone, as no cooking was ever done there. Glasses hung upside down above the center island, reminding Nick again of The Raven, but there was no food, no plates, no silverware, no pots and pans. A bombe desk stood where the stove should have been. There _was_ a huge refrigerator, as well as an individual freezer. Past some glass shelving, which held a set of unused china, was the pantry. This was temperature sensitive and held nothing but bottles of blood, wine, liquor, liqueur and combinations of the four. From floor to 15 foot ceiling on two sides, it was stocked full. Nick opened the refrigerator door and took out one of his bottles, then went into said pantry and got a bottle of wine—regular red wine. He mixed the wine and the blood in a carafe he found in a cabinet and took a glass down from the overhead rack. He then went into the back parlor and stretched out on the Empire sofa.  
  
It was then that he noticed the presence of another in the room. He turned and saw Jill standing at the piano, staring at him. She padded over to him and sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the parlor.  
  
"Can't sleep?" she inquired.  
  
"Just thinking. How about you?"  
  
"I got hungry," she said, indicating her glass. "Cary literally sleeps like the dead during the day, almost totally immobile. So I usually eat something at this time of day."  
  
Nick had to grin at that—fledglings. He decided to seek out her opinion on the living, and asked her straight out. Her answer surprised him.  
  
"I love them. I love their strengths, their foibles. They are very ham-and-egger. I love to eavesdrop on them when they don't know and listen to their petty problems. In fact, I don't even kill them right away during the hunt. I stay and jaw with them awhile, asking all about them and their lives. But since I usually feed on the dregs, the stories sometimes make no sense."  
  
"The hunt? I thought hunting was not allowed?"  
  
Jill got a bit of a giggle out of that. "Technically, it's not. However, you can get a license to hunt. As long as you follow the rules and pay the fees, you can in a limited capacity."  
  
Nick started at that. Licenses, fees, contracts—this was what modern vampirism had come to.  
  
"More Cary ideas?" he asked, cautiously.  
  
"You've been talking with Esme," she tittered. "Yes, I'm afraid my darling is a bit of a control freak." She took a sip of her drink. "So, how was the movie?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Where is Esme?" asked Jill, coyly.  
  
"Sleeping, by now," he answered to Jill's delight.  
  
"Good! Esme needs someone nice," she said, to Nick's surprise.  
  
"I thought you didn't like Esme?"  
  
"Gosh, no. Truthfully, she's a bit of a blue nose, but I still want to see her settled with some keen guy instead of the cake-eaters she usually goes with." She giggled. "And you seen nice enough, not really an egg."  
  
Nick smiled at the compliment under the slang. Lucky for him he lived during this decade, and during Esme's, and during Cary's.  
  
"So, does Cary consider you middle aisle material, or is it just for fun?"  
  
That got a real chuckle out of her.  
  
"I swear Nick, you just slay me! Just when I was thinking you were a real wet blanket, you come out with that!" She wiped the blood tears out of her eyes. "I wish. You know, Paul and Maria got married—in some sort of pagan ceremony. But they are legal man and wife! Cary's the Darb, but never in a kajillion years would he even consider a steady relationship."  
  
Nick took a sip of his drink. It was almost gone now, and the wine was affecting him, which was what he wanted. Alcohol did that to vampires. They could not eat, but mixed in with the blood, they could take in liquor and wine without it—red only. White did not settle right.  
  
"Why?" He asked. "Cary seems to be a settled sort of creature. As for marriage, I was married once," he thought of Alyssa. "Well, twice—sort of," he thought of Janette. It was sort of a marriage, that century together, wasn't it?  
  
Jill sighed, a long resigned sort of sound. "Simple. Helena."  
  
That name again. Esme had said she would not want to deal with Helena, but why? He thought back and could not think of anyone he had met last night by that name.  
  
"Who's Helena? Is she out of town?"  
  
A bitter laugh from the redheaded flapper. She rose from the rocker and crooked her finger at Nick, who followed her into the Keeping Room. The room was dark, naturally, and she turned on one of the lamps. She gestured to the pictures above the twin fireplaces. Oil paintings of the same women, in two scenes and poses, were above each. Nick noticed the flowers underneath them, fresh cut, in sort of a tribute. The woman was blonde with deep blue eyes that looked as if they could pierce your soul, if you had one. Her hair was up on her head, Gibson Girl style in one, and long Rita Hayworth in the other. She seemed a preternaturally beautiful—white skin, rosebud lips—Nick felt himself react just by looking at the portraits.  
  
Jill looked at him sort of amused. She cocked her head to one side, as if used to seeing this sort of response. Then, it seemed to Nick later, she gave him kind of a warning.  
  
"Don't let Cary see you act like that to her or he'll rip your head off. But, in any case, that's the infamous Helena." 


	8. Helena, Cary and the Human Problem

NOTES: They belong to TPTB not to me.  
  
IMPORTANT: This is definitely _not_ for the weak of heart. I get VERY dark in parts here. If you want sweetness and light, see another tale. Rating this time is still holding PG-13 thus far, for strong themes.  
  
**CHAPTER 8  
**  
"The infamous Helena," repeated Nick. He looked at Jill. "So who exactly is she? Someone Cary lost, perhaps?" Here he trailed off.  
  
"Lost? Not really, no. Helena is his maker," stated Jill, simply. "And she left him."  
  
"His maker" came the echo from him. "Why did she leave? And when?"  
  
"She left because she did not want to be tied down to anyone. She had never brought or even thought of bringing anyone across until him, and has never since. When she left is more difficult to say, for she comes back every once in a while. Usually when he has a problem. She can sense when he's troubled or bothered with anything or anyone. Then she shows up and he's lost to her, completely. He loves her—only her. Everyone else, he likes in varying degrees."  
  
"So why would Esme say she would not want to deal with her?"  
  
"Because Esme is no dumb Dora. Helena tolerates me, for she knows that I would never cause any harm to him. But then again, I've been carrying a torch for him since I was human."  
  
Nick puzzled this. Cary did not look the fathering type. Jill noticed the look and knew the question that was coming.  
  
"No, he did not bring me across. Our paths crossed in 1924 in a speak owned by a friend of mine. I did some part-time hoofing there; he came in—hunting. Very bold, Cary can be. I was to be dinner—but my boss interrupted before he could inflict the bite. But I never forgot him. Years later, I was looking through VM and lo and behold—there he was in a story about S & G Enterprises. I transferred to San Francisco, where he was living at the time and renewed acquaintances. So, maybe Helena considers me fated to be," she said with a shrug. "I don't know. But Cary," and here her voice took on that warning tone once more," is very jealous of her. When I say he'll rip your head off, I do mean that literally. He did that one time in Bloodlines to a young vampire that said something insulting about her. He was called before the Council on that one, but Helena once again intervened, and it all blew over."  
  
"Why would the Council listen to her?" inquired Nick, swallowing.  
  
"Because, she is a child of Lilith, an original Limim. She was not made a vampire; she was born a vampire—to Lilith herself and the demon, Samael it's been said. Very ancient, very powerful—and I do believe that her blood has affected Cary's disposition at times. She's been known to do complete blood drains."  
  
Blood drains. Nick involuntarily shivered. To do a blood drain meant that a vampire was just about sucked dry of blood and then was given blood back. It was not used often, as it was potentially dangerous. But it would account for some of Cary's iciness, being brought across by a demoness. Another shiver from him and he drained his glass and then rose to pour another.  
  
He thought about what he knew about the origins of the vampire. Some said it happened in Egypt, others in Italy or India. According to some legends, Lilith was the first wife of Adam and she was cast out. Some say she was born at the same time as Adam and Eve, intertwined with her demon spouse. From them came the first vampires—succubae and incubi. Nick was silent; this was too much to contemplate.  
  
"If you're really curious," Jill continued, "Alexi has an extensive collection of our lore. He'll be glad to show you."  
  
"So," Nick managed to swallow, "Cary was brought over by a succubus?"  
  
Jill blanched some, not easy for a vampire to do and finished her drink.  
  
"Never say that to either of them. Cary, I think, has a mental block against the thought of it. That I think was a present from Helena. I also think that his eternal devotion to her has something to do with her blood."  
  
"How did they meet?" asked Nick, in a small voice, chilled to the bone.  
  
"He was supposed to be her meal. According to them both, she took one look at his face and couldn't do it—she told me that she could not waste such beauty. So she took him in and basically held him hostage for a few months, very undecided about if she should kill him or not. Again, Cary would tell a different tale, but she would not let him leave. In the meanwhile, he fell hopelessly in love with her. Her feelings I do not even want to think about, Nick. But in any case, she made him what he is. Spoiled him by bringing him victims to kill and took general care of him. When she left, she left him a small fortune and introduced him to Paul, who made sure the fortune stayed intact."  
  
"So did she break into his home or something to feast on him? What did his family say?"  
  
Jill broke into peals of nervous laughter.  
  
"You really don't know anything about Cary at all, do you? He has never told you this story? Well, he did tell me this in bed, so maybe he has to be in the right frame of mind. He was living on the streets of the Five Point section of New York and was 22 years old. His mother had died in cholera when he was 10 and his siblings were dead of various causes. His father was in the Tombs for the rape and murder of Cary's little sister. He had been living in an orphanage from the time he was 13 until he was 16, then turned out into the streets. He was also dying of what we would call today bronchial pneumonia. He was treated with the rather barbaric medical treatments of the day. That in itself was nearly fatal to him, so she sort of saved his life by bringing him across. I think that has a lot to do with it as well, as he sees her as an angel, not a demon." She turned toward the fireplace, blood tears in her eyes. Then she turned to look at Nick. "Cary's mortal life was a waste, that is why he is the vampire he is. That's why he hates humans. His time in the orphanage turned him against religion as well, I don't think the nuns and the lay brothers were so kind to him. So if he seems standoffish or cold at times, that's why. I think demons pursued him even before Helena came onto the scene."  
  
With that, she collapsed into a chair. Nick sat as well, holding her hand, comforting her. Her grief at her lovers' problems was palpable. She swallowed hard and wiped her eyes.  
  
"I'm going to bed, I just want to hold him for a while."  
  
And she was gone with a vampire's speed. Nick leaned back and meditated on everything. Suddenly, he was not even tipsy anymore and dead tired all at once. He picked up his glass and put it in the sink, Cary being a stickler for cleanliness. He rinsed it and put the carafe in the refrigerator. Then he walked slowly up the back stairs, contemplating. Why had Gilda sent him here? To befriend a vampire that was brought over by a demon who predated time? Dear God, what would LaCroix say? Did he know?  
  
Nick opened the door to his room and looked at Esme sleeping there, her long flaxen hair making a pillow around her head. Natalie, why aren't you here? He thought. I could really use you. He brushed all thoughts of her out of his mind as he took off his robe and slippers and climbed into the bed.  
  
The ringing of his cell phone disturbed Nick's rest. He looked at the clock and groaned—5:30. In vampire time, that was the early part of the morning. He sleepily reached for the instrument and said hello.  
  
"Hi, Nick Knight?" came a female voice. It sounded vaguely familiar.  
  
"Yeah, this is he," he yawned.  
  
"Mr. Knight, this is Bethany Powers, the social worker—you came to see me about CASA training?"  
  
Oh yeah, he had. CASA training was the guardian ad litem program for children in the court. It stood for Court Appointed Special Advocate and the volunteer workers stepped in when a child's parents were going to court for abuse, jail, etc. They worked to find the children placement in permanent homes instead of being shuffled around the foster care system. Nick figured since he was going to be working with homeless women and children, some would definitely be from a neglect and abuse background so he decided to go through the training. He had been doing that for the past week, unbeknownst to anyone at all.  
  
"Yes, Mrs. Powers, I remember you."  
  
"Bethany, please. And I have a favor to ask of you." She paused and Nick waited. "A mother and her child were just found in Wingfield Park, the child was beaten as was the mother. They are afraid to go home and this being the weekend; the shelters are all full. I tell you, you are a lifesaver with your program. Anyway, I know you don't have any kids and that you're not married, so I wonder if you can take them in until Monday, when we can get them into a program out of town. The father is really twisted."  
  
Nick felt an urge to laugh, not at the poor child and her mother, but at the absurdity of the situation where he would need to bring humans into the home of what he had recently found out was a callous vampire. The irony of the situation was not lost on him.  
  
But then again, what would Cary have become if they had CASA workers in a New York slum in the 1890's? And since, as Jill more or less implied, he was an abused child himself, maybe having this battered child would not matter. Or maybe it did. Or--. Nick had to snap himself out of it. Bethany was on the phone imploring him now.  
  
"Let me talk to the guy who owns the place I'm staying until my house is done. Can you hold?"  
  
Bethany assented to this and Nick once more got on his robe and, barefoot, went down the hallway to Cary's closed door. He hesitated a moment and then knocked. No answer, so he cracked the door some, calling out the name of the occupant of the room. Still no answer. Nick went into the room.  
  
Cary's bedroom was huge, and it also contained a separate sitting area and a bathroom almost as big as Nick's room. The blond vampire walked carefully up to the huge 4-poster bed and looked at the inhabitants. Cary was, for all means and purposes, dead to the world. Jill was lying on his chest with her arms around him, exactly what she said she was going to do.  
  
Now, Nick had a problem for waking a sleeping vampire was exceedingly dangerous. A vampire's entire system shut down while they slept—they did not even parody breathing or even have any measurable vital signs. The blood just did not flow through the body when they slept as much as it congealed and dissipated. So, the vampire when awakened needed new blood to replace the clotted fluid in their bodies. Hence, waking what was basically a corpse was fraught with peril. Startled awake, they came up in full vamp mode and attacked with an animal instinct that which disturbed them. Vampires had been known to injure people when they awoke for just that reason, they just reached out blindly and assaulted those who agitated them. Nick knew this from plain experience, he had not killed when he woke up, but had come close.  
  
He looked at them and then very gingerly tapped Cary on the shoulder. No response and Nick tried again, a little bit more forcefully this time. This worked and Nick looked at Cary's red eyed gaze, noticing a little bit of fang under his curled lip.  
  
"Cary, it's me, Nick. I don't mean to disturb you but I need to ask you something."  
  
"What?" came the answer, almost in his mind, it was so low.  
  
Quickly Nick summed up his problem. He stopped a couple of times when the others eyes closed as if in a trance. But he agreed to let them stay, or at least that was what Nick thought he had said, it wasn't really clear. He went back to the phone and gave his assent for them to stay and gave them the address. He phoned the guard at the gate and told him to let them pass through.  
  
Half hour later he was showered dressed and ready for them. He had decided to go for the casual look of black jeans and a sweatshirt Nat had given him. He sat on the medallion Queen Anne serpentine sofa and waited. The doorbell rang and Nick got up to answer the fancy entrance door with its sidelights and transom. The door was grayish/white on the outside to match the exterior and cherrywood inside to match the hall. Why a creature who could not stand light would want a door with windows in it was a mystery to Nick, though he could appreciate the beauty of the door.  
  
He opened the door to find Bethany, another CASA worker, and a thin woman with a bruised face and an equally forlorn child. He ushered them in, noticing the way the child brushed her hand over the sideboard. They walked into the parlor and sat the mother and child seemingly reluctant to do so on such furniture. Nick then came to the realization that the house contained no food—or anything to eat on or with, vampires being on a purely liquid diet. As for the mortals' liquid, he could only offer water or alcohol. He excused himself and went into the kitchen and picked up the phone.  
  
The local supermarket had a delivery service and Nick ordered in soda, fruit juice, and varied microwave-able meals. After he hung up, he entered back into the parlor and proceeded to put everyone at ease—being a cop had helped him in that respect. He soon won over the child, Jessica and her mother, Judy. They had no real belongings except the clothing on their backs and Nick idly wondered whether there was any clothing in the closets in the other rooms. They soon said their good-byes to the two CASA workers and Nick, after putting away the groceries, led them up the front staircase and into the bedroom nearest his. The way the hall was arranged had that door opposite Cary's door. Nick stole into the master suite and found a nightgown of Jill's and this he gave to Judy. Jessica was given one of his shirts, and it hung on her. For that matter, so did Jill's outfit, as the red haired vampire was model tall. The pair had taken showers at the police station, and they were asleep the minute their heads hit the pillows.  
  
Nick closed the door and rounded the corner to see Jill staring at him. She sniffed and dropped her mouth in amazement. She took his arm and led him into his room, awaking Esme.  
  
"_Are you crazy_? Humans in _this_ house?" she asked, incredulously. "Cary will go bonkers, ab-si-tive-ly bonkers. Do you want them _dead_?"  
  
"Nick, why did you bring people into this house, c'est pas vrai!" Esme was beyond shocked. "Mon dieu, what will they eat? There is no food in this house."  
  
"I ordered some."  
  
Jill's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "You have food in this house?" she said, slowly with a pause between every word. "People food in Cary Shelly's fridge? Oh my God."  
  
Nick exasperatedly explained the situation to them. He told them his reasoning, what with Cary's childhood and all.  
  
"But Nick, he doesn't want to remember his mortal life. Why do you think he lives like a swell?" This from Jill. "He'll get up, hungry. He'll smell them and then he'll kill them. You won't have a chance to tell him. Oh my God!" she exclaimed again and sunk down on the bed.  
  
Their vampiric ears picked up the sense of someone waking up. Jill took a hurried look at the clock. They heard the shower going in the distance. Jill shook her head and walked out of the room, telling them she would try to mellow him out.  
  
"Maybe you should go stand guard near their door, mignon. That way he'll have to fight you to get in."  
  
Nick took this sensible advice and walked down the hall and sat on the top step, waiting. 


	9. Bloodlust

USUAL DISCLAIMER STUFF HERE—Yippee!!!!! Just purchased the Forever Knight DVD set. Except for First Knight Parts 1 and 2, it the uncut Canadian versions. Cool!!.  
  
Yes, finally an update. This was a hard chapter to write, which is why it took so long. I wanted to get the emotions and feeling right. I'll know I did by reviews--hint, hint.  
  
Thanks to my pal Douglas for reviewing the chapter and making suggestions. Thank you to the reviewers. And a big thank you to the publishers of my Roget's Thesaurus—over 1000 pages of synonyms.  
  
Rating is very firm PG-13. Warnings for bloody doings ahead. Remember folks, these are VAMPIRES . .  
  
**CHAPTER 9  
**  
Though normal hearing would not have picked up on it, Nick's sensitive ears picked up the nearly silent football as it came down the back stairs. He looked up from the divan where he was sitting to see Cary enter the room. He looked rather tired, even though it was late in the evening.  
  
"Took an extra long nap, I see," teased Nick, guessing at why the younger vampire was so late in arising.  
  
"Would have been refreshing, too, if I had been sleeping," this said rather deadpan as Cary shuffled into his immaculate kitchen.  
  
Suddenly he stopped and sniffed—such an alien smell, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He shook his head as if to clear it and reached into the dishwasher for his mug—this was a large ceramic thing that had his name imprinted on it—and a glass decanter. He walked across to the refrigerator, opened the door—and felt his mouth drop to the floor. There was FOOD in there—milk, eggs, soda—in his icebox! He blinked one or twice, as if to clear his vision (futile, really, since it was perfect) and reached behind one of Nick's horrid bottles to a bag of fresh blood. This he opened by the slicing of one end with a sharp eyetooth and poured some into the mug and the rest carefully into the decanter. He then placed his breakfast into the microwave and set the timer. It had taken a lot of trial and error to get the temperature correct—right at 99 degrees. Cold blood was good when mixed properly, but it had a tendency to taste clotty when taken alone.  
  
The timer rang and Cary took his mug and blew on it a little as if to cool it, a totally unnecessary gesture, but habit. He took a long sip, held it in his mouth a moment, and then swallowed. A tingling spread over him as the liquid hit his body. There was no feeling, thought the dark haired vampire, as that taste of warm blood upon first arising. The only thing that even came close (and in all honesty, possibly surpassed it) was the rush of taking living, pumping hemoglobin from a human.  
  
Another sip, using the same ritual and everything in the house seemed insignificant as the blood started to hit his extremities. Cary was still young enough to almost go into a state of ecstasy at the taste of this sustenance.  
  
After a minute, he passed though the pantry, the library, across the main hall, and into the front parlor. This was his usual routine when he awoke, just making sure everything was secure and in its place. He took the tape out of the machine, pushed a Hummel figuring on the sideboard in the hall back into place and stopped short just before the downstairs sitting room. Once more he blinked as if seeing a mirage and bent down to pick up the item that caught his attention—a candy wrapper, human scent still on it. His greenish eyes yellowed some and he took a very big sniff at the bottom of the stairs that led to the second floor.  
  
He caught just the faintest whiff of something and felt his veins tighten as something akin to hunger arose. He absently put his cup on a coaster that stood upon a serpentine console table near the foot of the staircase and looked up to the top of the stairs.  
  
Nick, keeping a rather watchful eye on him, noticed this immediately. He took in Cary's form—straight but trembling slightly as he stared up to where Judy and her daughter slept. The ex-detective saw the eyes of the other turn an almost saffron color and notice him unconsciously lick his lips, fang teeth clearly visible. Nick quickly put down the magazine he had been reading and, with some haste, stood in front of Cary on a higher riser—a hand held out to stop him from proceeding further.  
  
"What is going on?" asked the younger creature in the monotone that some vampires took when around living food. Nick could almost hear the bloodlust in his voice.  
  
Hurriedly the blonde vampire explained about the CASA visit. Cary's anger was palpable. Older and stronger, Nick knew he could hold the other back, but it would be a struggle as the thirst was taking Cary over.  
  
Nick swallowed. Fighting a hungry vampire as almost as deadly as waking one up. He knew this from experience. After all, how many times had he fought and won against the much older LaCroix? Rage made them stronger, and hunger more so.  
  
"I did ask," began Nick, lamely.  
  
"While I slept? I would agree to a stake through the heart and a necklace of garlic while I sleep!" Cary growled.  
  
"Look, all things considered I had thought that in this instance you would be a little more understanding."  
  
For the third time that evening, Cary was left open-mouthed.  
  
"Land sakes! Why would I be so understanding?"  
  
Nick briefly wondered about the can of worms he had just opened. After all, Cary had not been exactly forthcoming about his past.  
  
"Just everything you went through as a human, I did think that given the circumstances you wouldn't mind giving them shelter."  
  
The look that passed over Cary's handsome features at this statement gave Nick serious pause.  
  
"What in tarnation is that supposed to mean?" asked Cary, in a very dead voice, staring Nick straight in the eyes.  
  
"I mean while you were mortal, all you went through as a child—" the older vampire stopped then, as Cary was physically shaking with anger.  
  
"What did I go through as a child?" came the question back with emphasis.  
  
Throwing caution to the winds, Nick related some of what he had been told, without mentioning who had told him. It seemed wise to err on the side of caution in this respect. Cary, however, did not react as Nick figured he would. Instead of getting irate, he got so cold that Nick actually involuntarily shivered.  
  
"Helena," began the other, his voice packed with ice, "is not some hell- spawned demon. And yes, Nick. My mortal life was not the best, but that's why I made the decision to become a vampire. And tell me why, by the horn spoons, I would care about some mortals and what happens to them, for god's sake."  
  
"But..."  
  
"What? Should I spare any human who hasn't had a good life?" Cary sniffed. "I'd probably starve, and animals are not an option."  
  
"Look," Nick placated, "it's only one more day. On Monday they go to the shelter. If my place had been ready, I'd put them up there. Think back on the past, my friend. If someone had been there to save your sister, wouldn't of you have been happy?"  
  
The blond vampire noticed some color come back into the other's irises. Just then, however, they heard a soft sound, someone muttering in their slumber. The hunger came back to Cary and he was up the stairs in a thrice. The sudden move had taken Nick by surprise, and he followed with some alacrity. Jill was already blocking the door when Nick arrived on the top riser.  
  
"No," she stated, in a quiet voice, causing both male vampires to stare at her. "Wait."  
  
With that, she disappeared into the main bedroom. Nick took this distraction as the opportunity to stand in from to the entrance to the guestroom.  
  
By this time, with his prey so close, Cary had become a predator. Nick had not seen such ire from one of his kind in quite a while. It reminded him of LaCroix, in its way. It then struck him that Judy and Jessica would think the dog was in front of their door, such was the low growling.  
  
In the back of his mind, Nick thought what this might do to his friendship with the younger vampire. Nick never really had ever had friends whom he could be himself with. Schanke had been fun, but Nick was always on alert around him. Vachon had been too young. Forget about Tracy. Nat had been a friend, but he even had to keep a watch on himself around her. But with Cary and crew he could relax in the company of others of his kind. Nick surprised himself with how much he missed that, needed that. Eternity could be a lonely thing, as he well knew.  
  
It was strange though; he mused, watching his friend try to figure out a way past him, that he would become chummy with such a pure bloodsucker. The younger vampire harbored no doubts about his existence. Cary's face was now one of perfect fury and frustration. He knew what he wanted, but could not get to it.  
  
Nick suddenly wished Esme was there, instead of having to run off early on an emergency call from the office. Between the two of them, they could subdue him. Without warning though, Jill was back, a small smile on her face. She took Cary by the hand and led him into his bedroom. Nick followed, curious, then stopped.  
  
On the floor, propped against a chair, was a human—a very large human. The man had to weigh a good 250 pounds or more and has rather tall. This, Nick reflected, was a true feast. He took a look at Cary, who had a glazed look in his eyes. Jill gestured at the man, inviting her lover forward.  
  
It had been quite an interval since Nick had witnessed a feeding. Every night creature had his or her own way of doing this. Some toyed with their victims, some seduced. Some bit hard; some took their time. Some approached from behind (Nick's preferred method), some from the front. It was different techniques for the same purpose.  
  
Cary combined some of these. He slowly walked up to the mortal, looked down at him, and then looked over at Jill. The man stopped groaning and stared up at Cary, part in wonder and part in fear. Nick could now see the bruise on his temple where Jill had struck him.  
  
The dark vampire knelt by the confused man and for a second, Cary was very tender indeed. He smiled softly, never taking his eyes off his victim and never showing his fangs. He gently touched the welt on the man's head and then smoothed back his mussed blonde hair, running a forefinger down his cheek.  
  
Under Cary's steady gaze, the man turned eerily calm as if mesmerized. The human, oblivious to the danger shuddered as the vampire pulled his head to the right and licked his neck at the carotid artery. The victim shut his eyes and moaned at this, as if in pleasure. Then came a small snarl as Cary leaned into his neck and bit down—hard.  
  
A keening sound came from the man, like a cross between a sigh and a moan. With a sudden realization, the man futilely tried to struggle out of Cary's grip. This was stopped soon enough though as his tormenter languidly drank. Nick managed a small swallow, forcing down his own nature at the smell of fresh blood. He could see the human slowly stop struggling as he slipped into death. He felt a tug at his arm and came out of his near trance. Jill pulled him out of the room and shut the door partway.  
  
"I know how you feel, Nick, but it was the only way," she sighed. "If it makes it all Jake, though, that was not a nice mortal in there."  
  
"No. No, it was probably for the best," the older vampire admitted.  
  
"Cary can get murderous in his bloodlust," she explained. "Truly horrific. He'll be more rational after this."  
  
Nick forced a nonchalant laugh. "That certainly was a big fellow."  
  
The red haired vampire laughed at that then got serious.  
  
"As you know, detective, he would do better that some waifish model. Take me as an example. I'm 5'9" and weigh about 115 pounds. That means I only have maybe 7 pints of blood in me. Now that giant in there," she indicated with her head, "has about 12 or 13 pints in him. A much better meal, don't you think? I mean, golly, don't we want our beloved Cary completely satiated?"  
  
"You're right, of course. However, I just cannot get past the fact that this would be considered murder one."  
  
Jill shrugged as Nick thought that if not for this person, Cary would probably now be snacking on mother and daughter. In fact, he still might, Nick thought morosely.  
  
It was a good half-hour before Nick decided to look in on his friend. Cary sat against the chair with the mortal lying beside him—dead. Nick could see the blue lips and the first stages of rigor mortis on the corpse. But it was the brunette vampire that caught his eye, for Cary was in a full on blood trance.  
  
There really weren't words for what Cary was feeling at the moment. Nick smiled to himself as he remembered the only good thing about feeding on people. What Cary was experiencing was beyond expression and was, in most vampires' opinions, better than any human emotion or desire. It was everything—warmth you felt down to your toenails and through every nerve and fiber of your being. Cary shivered some in his bliss and drew himself into a ball, closing his eyes with a contented sigh. At the moment, Nick could set fire to the room and his fellow creature would not notice. The blood had him—as potent as any opiate on the street.  
  
Jill walked in and gave her beau a very sensuous look. Cary's moment was sort of private; watching him was very voyeuristic, almost like being a peeping Tom. Nick knew Cary had to assimilate his victim's memories, and most vampires took a distinct pleasure in this.  
  
The russet haired vampire smiled at him and ran a hand through Cary's raven hair.  
  
"Better?" she inquired, gently.  
  
Cary could just nod. Jill kissed his cheek and left the room. After a moment, Nick left as well. 


	10. Cary's Story

Usual Disclaimer Inserted Here—you know the drill by now. Could have triggering effects, read with care. The treatments and lifestyle described here are real by the way. Frightening, isn't it?  
  
Thanks to my reviewers, including those who read the story offline.  
  
**CHAPTER 10**

_**'**I wish I loved the human race; I wish I loved its silly face; I wish I liked the way it walks; I wish I liked the way it talks; And when I'm introduced to one I wish I thought, 'What jolly fun'. ---Walter Raleigh   
_  
In the end, it was a good hour before Cary made an appearance in the back parlor. He came over to Jill and kissed her on the mouth.  
  
"Thank you," he said, simply. She smiled at him in reply and flushed up rather prettily for a vampire.  
  
"Couldn't have you munching those particular guests, hmm?" she teased. "What did you do with the body?"  
  
"Dumped in a gorge over Slide Mountain." Cary sat in a wing chair and stretched out. He looked at Nick, who was trying not to show any emotion about this killing. "Speaking of guests in my home—."  
  
"I said I was sorry," Nick was beginning to get exasperated at this. "I really did not know how little you cared about mortals, especially ones in distress." This said with just a touch of sarcasm.  
  
"Do you think of cows when you take your nourishment?" Cary challenged him, calmly. "Do you think humans think of the animals they eat? You have eggs in my icebox. Isn't that preventing new chickens from coming into this world? Unless you or they, meaning mortals, plan on turning to plants for food, why should you care about them? Why should I?"  
  
Nick was silent for this was an old LaCroixian argument. Cary sighed a bit at his silence but continued.  
  
"There is a food chain in this world. That movie, that cartoon—'The Lion King'? What was that song?" He looked at Jill, harbinger of all pop culture.  
  
"_'Circle of Life'_", she provided.  
  
"Yeah, that one. We are higher up the food chain than them. Same as they are higher up the chain from animals. Like that picture of a big fish eating from fish smaller than they do. This is how I think about humans. Was my outlook soured by past events? I would guess it was, yes."  
  
Still no response.  
  
"Look Nick, without blood a vampire dies. Our systems just dry up, that's just a fact. It's all part of the change we go through when we're brought across. Our whole body changes, everything. That's why we can fly, have superior strength, yada yada yada. You can't change back. Oh sure, there are some fluke cases of it happening, but it's very rare. Sort of like a human being born with two faces, there are cases of that you know. Forever is forever, once you're in you can't back out. That's why so few vampires live to your age, Nick. They can't stand the idea of eternity."  
  
A shrug from Nick and Cary plugged on. He had to have him understand why mortals in his home were not a good idea. Besides, Cary rather liked the camaraderie that had developed during the last few weeks. A thought hit him suddenly.  
  
"Nick, did you come to this unlife willingly? Or were you raped into it?"  
  
That got a reply, finally.  
  
"No, I was told what to expect and what was going to happen. I was seduced into it, yes, but I went willingly."  
  
A nod from the younger vampire. "From what I've heard of your maker, that sounds about right. Now let me ask you something else. Tell me a good thing about mortality? Why would you want to be human?"  
  
"The sun," answered Nick, without hesitation. "To taste food, all the foods of this age---hotdogs, marshmallows, suvlaki, coffee, donuts. To hear the birds sing, see the butterflies and all the colors of the world. To see the green of the grass and the trees, the reddish clay, brown dirt. To see turquoise seas and blue skies. Heat, glorious heat---warm hands, warm feet. Human love, going out to a movie or to a grocery store without wanting to devour the patrons. The list goes on and on."  
  
Cary sort of snorted at this.  
  
"Well, Nicolas," he said, giving Nick's name its French pronunciation, "several things to your list. First, the sun is rather highly overrated. Even mortals are recognizing this by using sunblock to keep it away. Personally, I have never been a big fan of it, even when I was alive. As for food, I'll give you some of the modern things. I've always wanted to try a cheeseburger myself, but Ty makes bloodwine that have the taste of at least some of those things. Ask for number 28, it tastes like chocolate, or so I've been told. As for the colors, you call pull on a VR machine or watch the movies or the television. The heat is fixed by heating up a fireplace, or pulling a heater to you. They have these electric space heaters that you can adjust to have heat on just you. And if you get too cold, you can always find something to snack on." This said with just a hint of a smile. "As for going out among them, feed well and you don't have to worry about the hunger."  
  
"True, all of it. But how about human love, Cary?"  
  
Jill looked at the dark haired vampire at this question. He looked away for a moment.  
  
"Love. Human love? What is so wonderful about human love, Nick? Let me tell you, our way is much better, I think. We have no fear of any disease, no bodily fluids, and no worry about unexpected consequences. And, if you wish to be crass about it, a mortal orgasm does not even come near the feeling of drinking from your partner. This is why, if I might opine on it, that vampires can only find contentment with other of their nature."  
  
"Exactly!" exclaimed Jill, causing both males to look at her. "I was not exactly chaste when I was mortal," she chided. "But the only real sexuality came when I was brought across. Vampires are sensualists at heart. Our skin, our senses are all heightened. A simple caress from one of us, a simple kiss, is much more erotic than the same from any human. And the blood, well, it's just the cat's meow. Nothing can compare or come close to it."  
  
"True, all of it, true," Nick admitted, reluctantly. "But virtual reality, to get back to the previous topic, does not beat sunlight. Just to chew on food, that is something that cannot be replaced."  
  
"Alright," conceded the darker vampire. "I'll give you chewing."  
  
"Finally!" laughed Nick. Then he got sober. "So, our guests, can they stay? It'll only be till Monday then they are out of here and into a safe place."  
  
"And this place is not safe, I mean, besides the fact that they could lose their lives at any given moment. I really do not think that anyone would be so foolish as to try to harm them here!" This said with a bit of a chuckle. "But fine, okay, they can stay just till Monday, but keep them away from me. I will not take any responsibility for any mishaps that may occur. Oh, and all the nauseating food goes as well. I will not be ill anytime I go to my icebox."  
  
"You know," Nick mused, "I ate french fries once."  
  
"How did they taste?" asked Jill, as they had come after her time.  
  
"Salty and chewy. I loaded them down with catsup. That was sort of tangy tasting."  
  
"I tried to eat a candy bar one time, soon after I came across. I took one nibble and got very ill indeed. It brought the fact that I was a vampire to me better then anything else. No candy and no pop. I did manage to eat a grain or two of sugar from a packet, though."  
  
A laugh all around at that. Then Nick had a sudden thought, since Cary was in such a congenial mood.  
  
"Cary," he began, cautiously, "why do you hate humans so? And human love is nothing to sneer at."  
  
Jill's cornflower eyes widened at this statement. She wondered if her lover would actually answer this. To her surprise, he did.  
  
"Human love? To be honest, Nick, this is one emotion that I have no experience with, at all. The first love I felt from any creature on this earth was from Helena. Maybe you had an idyllic childhood filled with warm memories. I know Jill did---mama, papa, grandma, brother. I didn't have that luxury." Cary was silent a moment, before he went on. This was obviously painful for him. "My grandparents were left back in Ireland when my parents came to this country. Da was escaping a theft charge and my mam had run off from the hardscrabble life of her parent's potato farm. They met on the boat and married here. Of all the children, five died—4 boys and 1 girl. Three brothers survived, besides my sister and me. My one brother, Jarlath, he died of diphtheria when he was about ten. The other two—Aiden and Donagh, joined one of the many gangs that were around back then. Donagh was the follower, Aiden was the bully. He and Da were one and the same.  
  
"Mam, her name was Maeve, worked at making cigars, and we all helped. Well, at least, my sis Sorcha and I helped." Cary snorted. "Da worked very rarely, usually down at the docks. He was also big into dog fighting—kept a terrier that could go for 15 to 20 rats in the pit. Aiden was a bloke buzzer. He used Donagh as the stall, and he was the hook. Aiden was also not above panel thieving. The leatherheads knew them, Aiden was sent to the Tombs several times—."  
  
Jill interrupted this narrative for some questions.  
  
"Um, darling. What are a stall and a hook? A leatherhead? Bloke buzzer? Honey, I was not born then, please elaborate for me, hmm?" She came over to kneel by his chair, smoothing his hair back as she made her request. Nick grinned.  
  
"Sorry. My brothers were pickpockets; stall and hook are terms used by them. Leatherheads are cops. A bloke buzzer was a pickpocket who specialized in stealing from men. A moll buzzer was one who stole from women. The Tombs was the prison."  
  
The red-haired vampire nuzzled his neck as a way of thanking him for that, though it was not really needed. "Continue," she told him.  
  
"Cigar making was only part time work, though. Mam was really good at cutting feathers from cocktails, and Sorcha was also. I was not and Da thought that we needed to work to earn our keep. 'Ye didna work, ye don' eat', that's what he always said. So I went over to the envelope factory at 3 and ½ cents a thousand. We went in just after sunrise and didn't get off till after the sun went down."  
  
"No school?" asked Jill. She had never heard this part of the tale before.  
  
"School?" Cary laughed. "That took money off the table, and that was a sin in my family. Same as church. Mam went, but Da wouldn't let us go, we had to do chores then, or work. Hell, it wasn't until I got to the Home that I realized that Jesus Christ was not a swear word. Of course, we were supposed to go, but it wasn't really enforced back then—we're talking the mid 1880's Five Point district here, don't forget."  
  
"Anyway, Aiden always thought that I was too pretty for any boy. He was always trying to get me to come along with him. Or trying to get me into the streets, where I could make real cash, as he so nicely put it. Mam would not let this happen—and Da wasn't too keen on the idea at all. 'It'd be too much of a hassle wit the leatherheads, me boyo,' he'd tell Aiden. 'Tow tis a good idea, aye, this is at that. But no.'"  
  
"Now, Da was usually drunk, as I said. I was the one to go to the slop house, the saloon, to get the bucket for the beer. Whiskey was too expensive. And then I had to haul that heavy bucket home and woe to me if I spilled a lick. Then off would come the belt and a right thrashing. But the next morning, off to work I'd go. Broken arm, black eye, busted ribs—off to work. And I had to keep up as well. The factory bosses did not like it and I was let go. Boy, did I get a good beating for that! Anyway, I soon found another job in a glass factory. Worked from about 5pm to 3:30am. I made more money, anyway—a whopping 64 cents a day. I was a carrying-in boy and walked miles to and fro carrying those red hot bottles to the oven."  
  
"How old were you?" Jill, brought up in a decent midwestern town, was appalled.  
  
Cary shrugged. "Got the job in the envelope place at 6, I think. The job in the glass place at 8." He looked away. "Anyway, Mam got caught up in the cholera outbreak when I was about 9, in 1884. I came home from work one day and she was dead. That's when Da decided that we were moving from that flat to another one—a rear tenement. The front room was about 12 square feet and the bin in the back for the bedroom was about 6. We had two windows that opened on the court, but our building was smaller than the front building, so there was never any sunlight that shown. Not that I got to see the sun much, working 7 days a week. We paid $6.00 a month for that third floor flat. At least our old apartment was a front building. Da refused to work at this time and my brothers had moved out. Sorcha was working making pants. I remember the day she came home because her hand slipped and she lost a finger in the machines. I had to take her round to the doc, because Da was at the groggery."  
  
"Then when I was about 11, the cops came around with the child welfare people. It seemed they arrested Da for the rape of my sister. When she protested, he got mad and choked her to death. I won't say what he choked her with, I didn't understand how for years it could happen."  
  
At this, Cary got very quiet for a few moments, then let out a long sigh.  
  
"They took me to a founding home run by the parish church. The only good thing was that I did not have to go to work. The bad thing? Ever read that book Oliver Twist? Sort of like that, but worse. At the time, my health was not the best. I was born with weak lungs, and the life I led caused asthma. I had trouble breathing and was always wheezing. This made me a target for the older boys. Plus my face got me into a lick of mess as well. I've always wondered if I were ugly, then maybe I would have been left alone. And the brothers were no better, always coming in at night. I learned to sleep all crunched up, or under the bed. Better to sleep with the bugs than other night terrors. Since I never went to church, I was treated badly for that. First time I used the Lord's name in vain, the nun beat my hand so hard I couldn't move it to make a fist."  
  
"I finally could take no more and told the head of the church what was going on when he came to visit. Guess who got into trouble? Me. When he left, I was taken out and beaten worse that Da or Aiden ever got me. A month later, they kicked me out—I was all of 14, with no skills."  
  
"I had trouble getting work with my lungs the way they were. But I finally did get work in a garment factory. As long as I could stand, they kept me on. More long 10-hour days. Finally, by my 17th birthday, I couldn't work anymore. I couldn't breathe. So I landed on the streets, doing any odd job I could beg. Aiden came along occasionally and tried to get me to do a different kind of street work, but I refused that. I had enough of that in the Home."  
  
"Finally, a female friend of mine took pity on me and took me to the doctor she used. This doc was more familiar various sexual diseases and pregnancies that resulted from my friend's occupation, but he managed a course of treatment. It consisted of Quinine in two-grain doses; three times a day and laudanum in small doses, as well as iodide of potassium. Now, the Quinine was not bad, bitter tasting, but not bad. Like soda water. The potassium was also not too bad, I mean it was basically salt. The trouble was the laudanum, which was basically a mixture of alcohol and opium. All three taken together was not good. In fact, I became so addicted to the laudanum; I couldn't work at all, lost my job again. I slept in flophouses or on the streets."  
  
"It was actually a bowery bummer who took me to another doctor. He thought that at 19 I was too young to be living like a 'feral animal'. Now the MD he took me off the medicines I had been taken. This was a good thing. The bad thing, he was a Rush disciple. Ever hear of Dr. Rush?"  
  
Nick nodded. "He was an influential professor who believed Negro's were black because of leprosy, tobacco caused madness and other strange beliefs. If I recall, and I worked as a doctor during the Civil War, he prescribed bloodletting, blistering, purging, and sweating treatments. Yeah, I remember Benjamin Rush."  
  
"So you know what my treatment was. I was bleed about a pint a day, every day. The blistering was the worst, for they first had to burn you to get the blisters. Then came the course of calomel, which caused you to vomit, to be polite. Oh, don't forget the mustard plasters! Oh, and the laxatives to cause the purge, that was pleasant. In fact, sweating was the least offensive. And none of these things helped one iota, though I didn't know this at the time."  
  
"All I knew was that I was constantly weak, couldn't breathe right. I could barely eat, everything came back up. But that was fine, as I couldn't afford food most of the time anyway. Of course, my brothers made my life a living hell as well. Too high and mighty for them. They and their gang would be after me all the time, just for the hell of picking on someone weaker then themselves."  
  
"By the time I turned 20, I was in a state of depression. Nothing but misery everywhere. I didn't have a girl for I could not breathe long enough to do anything and they all thought I would make them sick anyway. My clothing was stolen or taken from where I could find it—the dump mostly. Sometimes I was lucky and found shoes, most of the times I used cardboard in the winter and just went without in the summer."  
  
"Then Helena found me curled up on a grate in an alley one cold, rainy night. I was supposed to be dinner, you see. But she couldn't kill me. She told me later that my face saved my life, such as it was. She took me in, kept me for over three months, seduced me and finally made the decision to bring me across—I was 21 years old."  
  
"So you see, Nick, humans mean nothing to me. Twenty years of poverty, neglect, abuse of all sorts--and you expect me to like mortals? Why? The vampire community took me in right off. Helena became lover, mother, angel, wife—everything to me. Now, you tell me something. Why should I have compassion for them, when they did nothing to help me? Not the cops, the church, family, nobody. Do you know I never remember anyone actually hugging me with affection as a child? Mam didn't beat us, but she did neglect us. But heck, she worked her fingers to the bone and was beat as bad as us all. Plus, Da's sexual activities bordered on rape at the best of times. She didn't have a chance, for her parents were taskmasters as well."  
  
For a while, the three sat there in silence. Jill had red streaks down her face from her tears; she never guessed how bad it had been.  
  
"But because of the circumstances, the two you have upstairs can stay. Perhaps if they did have such services when I was younger, I would have had a different life. But living well is the best revenge, as they say. Here I am, over a hundred years later—rich, successful, powerful. And my tormentors? Dead. Revenge is sweet, when you have the means."  
  
Nick paled some at that.  
  
"But enough of this maudlin junk. You, Nick, have paperwork to complete before tomorrow. So we might as well get at it." He turned to Jill. "Darling, can you excuse us while we tend to business?"  
  
His answer was a soul-searing kiss, and then she left the room. Nick could hear the TV in the library. Cary stood, shook himself as if flinging off something he rather forget, and walked to the phone.  
  
"Colin needs to be here to witness this. Meanwhile, I'll get the proper forms."


	11. Rules

Canon characters belong to TPTB, not me. The Reno Vamps do belong to me. Warnings here for some harsh language ahead and also some scenes that some might find offensive. Sorry folks, this is just their personalities, it's not me. Well, it is me, but you know what I mean. Rating here might just fall under M for mature if we use video ratings. Me, I still think hard PG13. The MPAA might say R for adult themes and language. Have fun!!!!!!!!  
  
**CHAPTER 11  
**  
Cary's office, such as it was, was off the foot of the staircase in the octagonal study. There was room to pass from front parlor to keeping room, and then the rest of the room was the office. An odd place in Nick's view, but as Cary rightly pointed out, he did live alone. Off to the side of the plantation desk stood two Martha Washington chairs. The desk faced the windows, obliging Cary to have to turn his chair to the side to look at his visitors, as the chairs were all placed to the right. Directly in back of the office chair was a couple of wingchairs. On the left, on another table looking out of place stood his computer equipment. There was also a copier and a barrister type case, used for files.  
  
Most noticeable were a few items that took Nick's interest. The first was a spectacular three door cherry bookcase. The second was the two cherry rope twisted high back parlor chairs. They had brass finials and ball and claw legs. Nick, knowing a little about furniture, thought it looked like Hunzinger. Rare indeed.  
  
Nick was handed a plain, grey pocketed portfolio while he took a seat in one of the rather uncomfortable Martha Washington chairs. He opened it while Cary took a seat in his rather more comfortable desk chair. Inside the folder were quite a few forms, all in triplicate. He looked up.  
  
"Might as well get started," commented the dark haired vampire, turning on the overhead lights. "Colin should be here in just a few minutes, I called him. After all, as a witness to your signature and who better than an Enforcer, hmm," Cary smiled. "Now, if you open up, you should see the first form is your hunting license...."  
  
"I won't need one of those," Nick told him, rather forcefully.  
  
"I do understand your feelings, Nick, but you still have to prove that you can do it. You don't have to pay for the thing if you don't want it. The cost, by the way, is $2000 a year, in advance..."  
  
"That's quite a lot of money," mused Nick.  
  
"True—but hunting is a privilege in this day and age and we do not want fledglings just going out and killing the population at large, so we try to regulate it. You want to hunt, you pay for it. But first you need to fill out the proper documentation to prove you know how, even if you don't."  
  
Nick sighed, what a bother. He picked up the form and read it over; the first part was mostly standard information with vital stats to fill in about him. Then he looked at the second page and his mouth dropped. He looked up at Cary, incredulous.  
  
"I can't do this. No, moreover, I won't do this." This said rather adamantly.  
  
"We have to know that you know what you are doing."  
  
"I'm 800 years old; I know what I'm doing." Nick angrily shook the paper. "I won't kill."  
  
"Nick..."  
  
"No. _LaCroix_ couldn't get me to do it. _You_ certainly won't."  
  
Cary's turn to sigh. "Just give me a moment and let me figure this out, alright?"  
  
Silence for a few minutes, and then a knock was heard and Colin entered, followed closely on his heels by Alex.  
  
"Cary," greeted the Enforcer, with a nod of his head. "Nick."  
  
Nick nodded acknowledgement as Colin took a seat in one of the wing chairs. He carried an attaché chase. Alex swept the newly transplanted vampire with a disdainful look. Nick wondered at this. The Russian had certainly taken a dislike to him rather quickly—why? He watched as Alex went to sort of half sit on the side of Cary's desk.  
  
"All set?" he asked the brunette vampire, with a smile.  
  
"In a moment. Nick just got the forms, and we were going over them. We seem to be having a problem with the first one." Cary looked away a moment in thought, when Alex brushed a hand through the other's hair. Cary pulled back, to a small but hurt look from Alex.  
  
"What problem?" demanded Colin. This was taking over his Sunday and he had plans.  
  
"Nick won't hunt."  
  
Alex turned to peer down at Nick through his nose. "Why? Don't you know how?"  
  
Now that was snotty, thought Nick. He shrugged.  
  
"I don't kill humans anymore."  
  
Alex was about to say something rather cutting, by the look on his face, but Cary held up a hand to stop him. The auburn haired vampire took it and smiled as he bent over to kiss the hand. Cary gave him a look, shaking his head. Colin looked bored at all of this, but Nick reddened some.  
  
Suddenly a thought struck him with amazing clarity. Alex was jealous of him—because he was staying in this house, with Cary. Astounding. Did Alex have a crush on the handsome vampire, or was it something else... Nick still harbored old Christian biases about this, though they were admittedly slight.  
  
"Look," Cary interrupted his thoughts, "how about this. How about Nick does the planning, but we do the actual killing. No, let me finish. Nick will pick the victim, we kill them, then he disposes of the body, or at least tells us where or how to dispose of the body."  
  
Cary sat back, proud of himself for solving the problem. It was so easy when you thought of it, and you got a free meal. Colin shook his head.  
  
"No, we need to know that he can kill properly," he insisted, folding his arms and getting a rather hard line to his mouth.  
  
"I won't choose either one. As I said, I don't kill humans anymore. Hell, I don't even drink human blood anymore under normal circumstances."  
  
"This is a ridiculous conversation!" exclaimed Alex. He looked down at Cary. "This is something everyone in the Community had to do. Dermo, even I had to do it, and I have perfected my killing skills! So why should this....uebitsch be exempt?"  
  
Nick knew some Russian and this was not very complimentary at all. Uebitsch meant freak—quite the insult indeed. He was about to say something, when he noticed a look come into Cary's eye's. They had turned just a tad golden, not much, but a bit.  
  
"Alex, watch it." He turned to Nick. "Look, just pick someone. Pick the dregs if you want, some criminal, hell I don't care. You don't have to bite, we will do the actual deed and all you have to do is the clean up. We just need to know that you can pick a proper victim if you have to and then get rid of them. Simple. We are vampires, Nick. That's what vampires sometimes do, you know."  
  
Nick shook his head. "So you doubt me that much?"  
  
"No," said Cary, almost pleading. "Look, we know your age. We know you can do it. We know you were taught by one of the best—LaCroix. We respect that, we do. But we need proof. You need to have this signed. If you don't, then the next youngster that comes along will not want to do it and before you know it, we have dead bodies in the street. Bloodless. Then along comes the FBI and the other law agencies and then we risk exposure. Nick, please."  
  
This was as close to begging as Cary had probably ever come. Alex just stared at the blond vampire, something akin to almost hate in his eyes. How dare he cause Cary this? Who did he think he was? No one put his Cary though this, no one.  
  
Nick was torn. He had been in law enforcement, now he was being asked to actively participate in a crime. No matter how you looked at it, it was first degree murder. He looked at the three in the room. Cary looked hurt and Alex looked mad. Colin had an otherworldly look in his eyes, every bit the Enforcer he was. Suddenly, Esme's warnings hit home. Would they actually destroy him over this? He had a feeling Cary did not want too, but he had no qualms about the other two. He wished Janette was here, but he knew what she would tell him.  
  
"Well?" Colin asked hardness to his voice. "We don't have all damned night."  
  
Nick knew defeat when he saw it. Stubbornness was one thing, but he wanted to be around for a while longer. He wouldn't be a martyr to this cause. He looked down, just pick someone and then tell how to...dispose. It sounded so cold, but then, it was.  
  
"I won't have to kill anyone at all? And it is just this one time, right?" he asked, just to make sure of the terms. "I just couldn't do it more than that."  
  
"No," Cary had a definite sound of relief in his voice. "Colin, is this satisfactory?" A nod from the Enforcer. "So," he turned to Alex, "set up a good time."  
  
Alex held his eyes for a long moment. "I have one stipulation." At Cary's quizzical look, he smiled a slow smile. "You do the actual killing."  
  
This caused Colin a raise of his eyebrows and Nick some confusion. Why would he want that? Cary had no conscience about killing; Nick knew that as a fact. Cary even seemed a little put out by the request.  
  
"Why me?" he asked.  
  
"Vicarious thrills. I want to watch you feed, and share."  
  
Cary looked away. If watching a vampire feed was probably one of the more intimate things you could do then sharing the kill was even more personal. Nick looked from one to the other, once more trying to figure out what was going on. Alex's request was the vampire equivalent of a ménage a trois. Colin though, was having none of this. It was with good reason he was an Enforcer—these personal feelings were bull, this was business.  
  
"Alex, seduce him on your own time, not mine. I mean, really, how many years have you been trying this?"  
  
The red-haired vampire turned blue eyes upon him.  
  
"Eternity...I have eternity." He turned back to Cary. "Don't I, mya daraguya?"  
  
The object of this affection looked decidedly uncomfortable. Colin cleared his throat in a gruff manner and Cary looked at him, visibly relieved.  
  
"Next order of business," stated Colin, and it was not a question.  
  
"Ummm, yeah. Next is...flying permits."  
  
Nick was almost amused at how flustered Cary was. Then again, Alex was trying very hard to get him that way. There was a look of pure lust in the Russian's eyes every time he looked at the handsome dark haired vampire. Unique problem, he mused. He reminded himself to ask Esme about it, she seemed knowledgeable.  
  
"Nick?" Cary knocked on his desk to get his attention. "Earth to Nick, are you with us? Good. Next is to get you your flying permit. It should be the next form down."  
  
It was. To Nick's surprise, it was a 50 question test. It covered things like lift, air currents, different aircraft as well as landing procedures and the like. He perused the questions—principles of flight? Navigation? He looked at a sample question and swallowed hard--  
  
_A temperature inversion would most likely result in which weather condition? A: Clouds with an extensive vertical development above an inversion aloft. B: Good visibility in the lower levels of the atmosphere and poor visibility above an inversion loft. C: An increase in temperature as the altitude is increased. Correct answer: C  
_  
He looked up.  
  
"What is this?" he asked. 800 years of flying and he didn't even know this. Never knew he had to know this.  
  
"Nick," Colin answered him this time, exasperated. "We now have radar, airplanes, aerials, balloons. We have glider pilots and such. Plus the weather can change like lighting here—it could be storming up in Tahoe and scorching in the Valley. You go down to Carson and the weather is different, or even up to Pyramid Lake."  
  
The black haired Enforcer then gave Nick a rare smile.  
  
"Besides, there are only a handful of technical questions. The rest are more or less general knowledge. Things you should know if only by experience. You do fly, don't you?"  
  
Nick conceded this as Cary handed him a pen. It actually had S & G Enterprises written on it, with a phone number—a toll free one. He almost laughed, but really he still had no idea what Cary actually did for a living.  
  
"You want me to take this now?" He asked, realizing why he was handed a pen. At a nod from the others, he shrugged and turned his mind to the test. Colin was right; most of the questions were basic knowledge questions. A few were downright difficult—you needed to go to ground school to learn this. Those made him laugh, earning him a strange look from Colin, who was reading a novel—Tom Clancy. Why did that not surprise him?  
  
He looked over to Cary and raised an eyebrow. Alex had moved behind him to give him a shoulder massage. What surprised Nick was that Cary was allowing this. Again he wondered what the deal here was.  
  
"Too tense," Alex told the other vampire, bending down to Cary's right ear, looking like he was going to nip at it. He didn't though. "You are too tense. Relax."  
  
"Mmmm," moaned Cary, under the ministrations. "Won't work, you know that."  
  
"What, relaxing?" teased Alex, in such a low voice it gave Nick chills. _THAT_ was not the type of voice used between friends.  
  
"No, silly. This. You won't get me into bed, Alex. You know that, don't you?"  
  
He other laughed softly. "As I've told you, love, we have eternity to discuss this. Maybe not now, but who knows a century for now. I can wait that long for you. I don't mind at all." At this, he laid a soft kiss on top of Cary's hair. "I love you," he said, so soft Nick could barely hear. Then again in Russian. "Ya tyebya lyublyu."  
  
Nick finished his test and waved the paper at Cary rather noisily. Two could play this game, and he was not even interested in Cary the way Alex was interested in Cary. They looked up at him and he could feel a smile from Colin.  
  
Cary took the paper, a red marking pencil and went over it rather quickly. He then handed it back.  
  
"Not bad, Nick. You missed 10 questions, most of them technical. You need to get them all correct to pass the written portion of the test."  
  
The blonde's face dropped. "Did I not pass?"  
  
"Not yet, but we give you three chances to do this. The questions are all multiple choices or true/false, so try again." He handed the paper back.  
  
Nick went over it once more. Four missed questions were true/false. The others he took a stab in the dark at. More checking by Cary, with a smirk from Alex. Once more it was handed back, three wrong but process of elimination fixed that and on the third go around he had his perfect score.  
  
"Good, sign here," Cary said pointing to a form that told everyone he passed. Nick did, and then Cary signed, then Colin, then Alex. "Part two is a demonstrative test. We just have to know you can take off and land safely."  
  
Nick snorted at that. This was getting ridiculous. The test was put off till the next day, along with the hunting exam. The next few forms were official forms welcoming him to the Community and his official membership. This the Enforcer took. In fact, Colin had taken one of every form thus far. Then he came to the last form in the package, printed on a piece of parchment. It was not in triplicate, instead there were three separate identical sheets.  
  
"This Nick is a list of rules. These rules are not to be disobeyed under severe penalty which we will get to. First you get to hear the history lesson, so settle back and listen up." 


	12. The Black Veil

Important author notes. The Black Veil is a real document. You can find out more about this document as well as other interesting real vampire facts at darkness embraced, all one word. Note the following:  
  
_The Black Veil  
  
The Black Veil, also known as the "13 Rules of the Community" was composed by Father Todd of House Sahjaza, Michelle Belanger of House Kheperu and COVICA as a voluntary standard of common sense, etiquette and ideals for the greater vampire/vampire community. Although copyright 1997-2001 by Father Todd and Michelle Belanger, the Black Veil is an open licensed text available for reproduction on related websites or in print for organizations and individuals who with to promote it's concepts and ideals. All that is asked is that the Black Veil not be changed, amended or modified in ANY way and include the text and links detailed between the asterisks.  
_  
Now, that said, I did change one part, that was rule 3 about safety. Cary has more to say on this later.  
  
No, my story vampires are not real. No infringement or parody meant to anyone involved with real vampirism. So, why use it? It's a very sensible document that fits in well with a Vampire ethical code—real or not. Plus I like its ideals and think that if the Enforcers truly had a code of rules; this might be what they look like. Enjoy.  
  
**CHAPTER 12**  
  
Everyone settled back and Jill, whose preternatural hearing picked up bits and pieces of the conversation walked in and took the other wing chair. She walked up to Cary and gave him a long kiss. Then she looked at Alex and smiled.  
  
"Must she be here," Alex almost whined.  
  
"It's story time, Alexi. I love story time."  
  
"Enough," this came from the deep voice of the Enforcer in the wing chair. "Cary, go on with the tale, and make it quick. Morning will be here soon."  
  
"Alright," agreed Cary. He turned to face Nick and began his tale.  
  
"Every once in a while, I get a wild hare. I just need to go gallivanting around, cut up didoes. I get bored, you see. I visit coven houses in different parts of the world. Some of these are vampires, like you and I. Some are role players or vampyrs, with a y. Most of these are actual mortal human beings who just live a vampiric type lifestyle and who drink blood, or feed of the energy of others. Most of them hold real jobs and they are not hundreds of years old, cannot fly, will die if they get hurt bad enough, et cetera. I just think its fun to visit these little clutches, see what's going on.  
  
"Of course, I also visit more of our type as well, but there is way too much politics involved in it, so I normally stay away unless called.  
  
"Now, one evening a while ago, I was visiting New York. You know, hitting the clubs and other carryings-on. Anyway, I sauntered into this club called the Long Black Veil. It was one of those, oh how do you say, gothic clubs. It seemed an interesting place and I had heard it spoken of, so I went.  
  
"It was a typical club playing typical music. While I was there, I heard people talking about a code of ethics for vampires. As you know, Vampire the Masquerade is rather popular nowadays, so there were a lot of people acting like real vampires as well. I found all this terribly amusing, all things considered.  
  
"Soon after, I found myself at a seminar of sorts with living vampirism as the topic. That caught my eye, as I am a living vampire. Well, more or less. More talk about this Black Veil document. It seemed based on trust and respect among the Community. For varied reasons, this made sense to me.  
  
"Back at my hotel, I started to ponder. What would happen if I took this code and applied to us? That way, everyone would know the rules. The idea began to gnaw at me and I got my hands on a copy of the Veil.  
  
"I brought this back with me and instituted my little program. This way, since all in this Community must sign, if there is an infraction, the perpetrator cannot say they weren't warned. Oh, people got all persnickety about it, do tell. But, like a Philadelphia lawyer, I managed to convince everyone.  
  
"Oh sure, there were those who wouldn't play along, but we dealt with that. Now more and more Communities are adopting the Veil for themselves.  
  
"And so that is the document you hold in your hand. Read it well, live by it. If you have any questions after you finished, please do not hesitate to ask."  
  
Nick sighed and sat back to read the document.  
  
----1. DISCRETION: This lifestyle is private and sacred. Respect it as such. Do not make a sideshow of yourself. We do not have to prove ourselves to anyone. Appearing on public TV to tell the world you drink blood is useless attention-getting. It gets a negative reaction for the whole Community. Our place is in the shadows; our greatest protection from small-minded humanity is the fact that they do not believe we exist. Someday they may be ready for us to reveal ourselves to them, but that time is not now. Do not hide from your nature, but never show it off to those who won't understand.  
  
Oh god, Nick thought. That last line—do not hide from your nature. That is what he had been doing for a long time. The rest he believed in. He read on.  
  
---2. DIVERSITY: Our paths are many, even thought the journey we are on is essentially the same. No single one of us has all the answers to who and what we are (that would come as news to LaCroix, thought Nick). Respect everyone's personal views and practices (ditto the previous thought). We cannot let petty differences of ideology prevent us from maintaining a unified Community; there are enough who would attack us from the outside. Our diversity is our strength. Let our differences in viewpoint enrich us but never divide us amongst ourselves.  
  
Nick had to agree with this.  
  
--3. SAFETY: Use sense when indulging your nature. Do not flaunt what you are in public places. Feed in private and never overindulge or get careless. The safety of the entire Community rests upon each member's caution.  
  
More good ideas.  
  
--4: CONTROL: We cannot and should not deny the darkness within. Yet we should not allow it to control us. If our beast or shadow or darkside is given too much sway, it clouds our judgment, making us a danger even to those we love (Nick swallowed at this). Never indulge in pointless violence. Never bring willful harm to those who sustain you. Only feed for the sake of feeding, and never give over to mindless bloodlust. We are not monsters: we are capable of rational thought and self-control (That sounded like Nat). Celebrate the darkness and let it empower you, but never let it enslave your will.  
  
Well, Cary should read over this one, Nick smirked to himself. Wasn't that what he planned on doing, giving over to mindless bloodlust? Then again, Nick wasn't living up to it himself as he denied the darkness within. But he did agree with not letting it overtake you, he knew firsthand what happens when you did. Of all so far, this rule struck home the hardest. He continued.  
  
--5. LIFESTYLE: Live your life as an example to others in the Community. We are privileged to be what we are, but power should be accompanied by responsibility and dignity. Explore and make use of your vampire nature, but keep it in balance with material demands. Remember, we may be vampires, but we are still a part of this world. We must live lives like everyone else here: holding jobs, keeping homes, and getting along with our neighbors. Being what we are is not an excuse to participate in this reality. Rather, it is an obligation to make it a better place for us to be.  
  
And Nick could not agree more. He heard a clearing of a throat and looked up.  
  
"Still reading?" Cary teased. "You have to be the world's slowest vampire."  
  
"Contemplating. Absorbing. This is some major stuff, Cary. Are you sure humans wrote this?"  
  
Cary nodded. "Do tell. It does sound like it was written by one of us, though. But ideas did come from all over, so maybe a real vampire or two actually had a hand in it. Now you know why it hit me like a sockdolger."  
  
"No doubt," commented Nick and went on to the next rule.  
  
--6: FAMILY: We are, all of us, a family, and like all families; various members will not always get along. However, respect the greater Community when having your disputes. Do not let your individual problems bring emotional strife to the family as a whole. Settle your differences quietly among one another, only seeking out an elder's aid in mediation when no other solution seems possible. Never bring you private disputes into public places and never draw other family members into the issue by forcing them to take sides. Like any normal family, we should always make an effort to present a stable and unified face to the rest of the world even when things are not perfect between us.  
  
LaCroix. This one word went through Nick's head. And he himself had forced Janette to take sides, more than once. He was beginning to understand what these rules meant.  
  
--7. HAVENS: Our havens are safe places where everyone in the Community can come to socialize. There are also often public places where we are likely to encounter people who don't understand our ways. We should respect the patrons of these places as we should also respect the owners of the establishments and always be discrete in our behavior. We should never bring private disputes into a haven. We should never initiate violence in a haven. And we should never do or bring anything illegal into a haven, as this reflects badly upon the Community as a whole. The haven is the hub of the whole Community, and we should respect it as such, supporting it with our business and working to improve its name in the Community so that we can always call it home.  
  
If that did not sound like the Raven, he did not know what did. He supposed Bloodlines carried the same weight here.  
  
--8. TERRITORY: The Community is extensive and diverse. Every city has a different way of doing things, and a different hierarchy of rule (Nick almost laughed at this. No kidding, he was in the middle of one). When entering a new city, you should familiarize yourself with the local Community. Seek out local havens. Get in touch with key members of the Community, learn who is who, and show proper respect where it is due. You should not expect to impose your old way of doing things on this new Community. Rather you should adapt to their rules and be glad of their acceptance. Always be on your best behavior when coming to a new city either to visit or to stay. We are all cautious and territorial by natures, and only be making the most positive impression possible will you be accepted and respected in a new Community.  
  
In other words, mused Nick, conform. Hunt to get a license, pay for a permit to fly and sign these rules. It was no wonder Cary, who had a megalomaniacal streak, liked this document.  
  
--9. RESPONSIBILITY: This lifestyle is not for everyone (yeah, like coroners. Nick sighed). Take care in who you choose to bring into it (like coroners...). Those who are mentally or emotionally unstable have no place among us. They are dangerous and unreliable and may betray us in the future (Richard Lambert came to mind). Make certain that those you choose to bring in are mature enough for this burden. Teach them control and discretion, and make certain that they respect our ways. You will be responsible for their actions, and their behavior in the Community will be reflected back to you.  
  
Oh so true...so very, very true.  
  
--10. ELDERS: There are certain members of our Community who have established themselves as just and responsible leaders. These are the people who helped establish local Communities, who organize havens, and who work to coordinate the networking of our culture. While their word does not have to be law (unless you have Enforcers to back you, Nick though wryly), they should nevertheless be respected. They have greater experience than many others, and usually greater wisdom. Seek these elders out to settle your disputes, to give you guidance and instruction, and to help you establish yourself in the local Community. Appreciate the elders for all they have given you (LaCroix would agree to THAT): if it was not for their dedication, the Community would not exist as it does now.  
  
Did this apply to Cary? He was a leader, but not really an elder. Nick thought about it. Paul. Paul was the elder, it seemed. Couldn't be anyone else, they were all too young, besides Esme and he didn't see her in that role. In that case, he supposed he was an elder. The thought made him a little nauseous. He did not want fledglings seeking him out, asking for advice.  
  
--11. DONERS.  
  
This space was blank. Nick looked up and pointed this out.  
  
"Well, it was made for mortals. The way they take blood is to find a proper donor—a Crimson Swan is what they call a donor who gives blood willingly. So this was meant to provide for them. Basically it says that you should respect them and never mistreat them. It works in the mundane world, but not for us, so I put it in to respect the document, but left the definition out. I did that with a couple of lines, omitted them."  
  
"You seem to know a lot about mortal vampires," Nick told Cary.  
  
"I do," he smiled, wide. "Hey, maybe I should take you to a blood bar..."  
  
Alex and Colin both laughed out loud at this, while Jill looked annoyed. Nick was confused.  
  
"What, and introduce him to some damned blood doll? Or some fetishist? Sure, Cary, that's a great idea." Jill was really miffed at the idea.  
  
Alex was laughing so hard he had blood tears flowing down his face. "Nick Knight in a blood bar. Oh god, that's funny. I could just see Nick as a blood junkie."  
  
Blood bar? Blood doll? Blood junkie? What was going on? He turned to Cary, his whole expression a huge question mark.  
  
"Before you leave this house, Nick, I promise you one night out at a blood bar. There's a good one in Sun Valley." Cary gave Nick a huge smile, pleased with the idea.  
  
Nick raised an eyebrow and continued.  
  
--12. LEADERSHIP: When you choose to take a position of authority in the Community, remember that you do not lead for yourself alone. Leadership is a responsibility, not a privilege. A good leader must set an example for everyone through his actions and behavior. His motives should be selfless and pure, and he should put the interests of the whole Community before his own. The best leaders are those who serve to better to Community and whose person and behavior gives no one—even those outside the Community—a reason to criticize him. They must strive to be above reproach.  
  
This earned a snort, which caused a few looks his way. He covered quickly.  
  
--13. IDEALS: Being a vampire is not just about feeding upon life. That is what we do, but not necessarily what we are. It is our place to represent darkness in a world blinded by light. We are about being different and accepting that difference as something that empowers us and makes us unique. We are about accepting the dark within ourselves and embracing that darkness to make us whole beings. We are about celebrating the thresholds: body and spirit, pleasure and pain, life and death. Our lives should be lived as a message to the world about the beauty of accepting the whole self, of living without guilt and without shame, and celebrating the unique and beautiful essence of every single soul.  
  
Nick gave a deep, unnecessary breath. The whole document was about acceptance. You are a vampire, it said, so be the best vampire you could be. Live without guilt and shame—take the blood in stride. Could he sign this, could he live this? He looked up.  
  
"Well, any questions?" asked Cary.  
  
Nick shook his head.  
  
"Good. Now, when you sign make sure you understand what you are signing too. Slip ups are bound to happen, like earlier. But blatant disregard of the rules result in punishment. Have no mistake made, Nick, we have destroyed others over these rules. There's no backing and filling in this. They will be followed."  
  
"What if I don't sign?" The minute it was out, he wished he could take it back, for the look on Cary's face said it all. Jill looked shocked and Alex more than pleased. Only Colin remained inscrutable.  
  
"Then you must leave the Community and never return. If you do not, you will be killed."  
  
Esme was right, Nick thought. Cary had said that with a grim line to his mouth. Nick shrugged.  
  
"Where do I sign?" he asked.  
  
It was Colin who answered.  
  
"Give me your left hand," he told Nick, who presented it to the Enforcer. Colin took from his case a syringe. 'They make you sign in blood', that's what Esme had said.  
  
Colin did not bother with the preliminaries of a tourniquet. He just took Nick's wrist, turned it upright, and stuck the needle in. Then he pulled back on the plunger as Nick's life fluid went up into the barrel. It hurt, it shouldn't, but it did. Then Colin turned and took out another syringe, this one looked sort of like a writing instrument. The barrel where the ink went was injected with the blood, so that it worked as a fountain pen. Ingenious, really. It was this device that was handed to Nick.  
  
"Sign here," pointed out the dark haired Enforcer. Nick did. The blood came out almost like an old fashioned quill pen, but it worked. He signed all three documents. Then Cary signed, then Colin. He felt strange, like he had given away a piece of his soul. Nick watched as Colin took the rest of the blood and transferred it to a glass beaker and put a stopper in it, writing on the label Nicholas DeBrabant, his real name.  
  
"Well, Cary," said Colin, standing and putting everything back into his case, "it has been fun, but it's getting very early." He shook Cary's hand and then pulled him in to whisper something in his ear. Cary nodded as the Enforcer turned to Nick. "Nick, it's been a pleasure. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
He turned to go, and then stopped as a thought hit him. He turned back to Cary,  
  
"By the way, why are there humans in your house?"  
  
Cary quickly explained without embellishment the reasons. Colin expressed a bit of disapproval but calmed when Cary said they would be gone with the coming of the sun. A nod and he asked if Alex was going with him. Alex told him to wait a moment and then went over to Cary and placed a kiss on his mouth. Jill's eyebrows went up, unusual for Alex to be so forward.  
  
"Eternity," he told a rather startled Cary. Then he bowed to Jill and Nick, kissed his crush's hand reverently and left.  
  
"Cary?" Jill asked the vampire, who was stunned speechless.  
  
"I think it's time for bed. It's nearly 7am." With that, he turned and went up the stairs to his room.  
  
"Well," Jill mused, "that was interesting. Nitey nite, Nick." She placed a kiss on his cheek and went to follow her beau upstairs.  
  
It was quite a night for revelations, thought he, as he went to wake up the mortals. 


	13. Revenge For A Human

Same old, same old—canon characters belong to TPTB, Reno Vamps belong to me. Some bad language and more dark themes. Still holding steady at a PG- 13  
  
CHAPTER 13  
  
Nick went up the staircase and knocked on the door of the human's room. Judy, the mother of the pair, opened the door very carefully. The former detective smiled.  
  
"Hi and good morning. The CASA people will be here soon to take you to the shelter. I just wanted to make sure you were awake."  
  
Judy ran a hand through her brunette curls. Nick thought she looked a lot better then when she and her daughter had been brought in a couple of nights ago. You could still see redness around her throat and her lip was still puffed up some. Nick for the first time noticed a patch of hair was missing around her ear. Her eyeglasses were missing a temple and also the nose pad on one side.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Knight, I do appreciate all you're doing for me," said she, with a fluttery nervous hand movement. "I didn't want to sleep in the park, but I just had to get away from George. I passed out when he started choking me, and when I came to, Jessie was there crying and I knew then that some way or another I would have to leave, money or not. So, thank you so much." This last said with tears in her eyes.  
  
Nick smiled. "Not a problem at all. Do call me Nick, though. Mr. Knight is a tad formal, given the circumstances." His ears picked up the sound of a shower running. "Is there anything you need, any clothing or something?"  
  
"No, no...what we had on yesterday is fine. We'll get more clothing from the shelter people I'm sure."  
  
"If you're sure," Nick began, and then stopped. Judy did not seem the kind of women who would want pity taken of her. "I have breakfast going, the most important meal of the day."  
  
Judy apologized once more and went back into the room to continue morning ablutions.  
  
By 8am, they were all sitting in the library eating. Or at least Judy and Jessica were—bacon, eggs, toast—the works. The smell nauseated Nick some, but he kept smiling. He even managed to get the 11 year old Jessica to laugh. He was reminded of Lisa Cooper, who he had taken care of when she had witnessed a mob hit. Last he had heard Lisa's dad had gotten a job closer to home and they were both doing great.  
  
He also learned more about Judy. She was born and raised in Oregon, where Lisa was born. Lisa's natural father died when she was only 3 and Judy married George when Lisa was 8. At first it was a happy time with no hints of problems. The abuse began, as most do, gradually. First it was yelling over little things, exacerbated a lot by George's drinking—which he started to do a lot of when he lost his job. Then one day, tired of being yelled at, Judy said something smart back and George backhanded her across the face. Tiny separations were always followed by reconciliations, and the abuse got worse. Her parents were dead and no support system was in place for her.  
  
Six months ago, George thought a move to Nevada would be good. They had jobs there, which the small lumber town did not. George got a job as a change person at the Sands, but was fired after several banks came up short. Next he went to the Atlantis, where he worked as a busboy at The Purple Parrot, but he was terminated from there as well for calling in once too often. Then he finally lucked into a job he said he enjoyed—as a live in handy man for a small apartment complex. Rent was part of the wages, and for a short lived time, everything was fine. Jessica liked her new school and Judy even found part time work as a cashier at Albertson's. Then George began his complaint's anew—Judy was never home when he needed her, she was letting herself go, Jessica was being bratty, the house was a mess—anything and everything. The abuse began again and with more fury. George carried a pager, but refused a phone in the house and made Judy quit her job. Since he was on property most of the time, he would pop in on her to make sure she "wasn't cheating or slacking off her housewife duties", to quote him. He was disappointed that she wasn't pregnant yet, he wanted a child of his own and he began to resent Jessica. Now the abuse began on her as well—long pants and shirts became de rigueur. She didn't dare tell anyone lest George make good on his threats to kill her and her mom.  
  
The kicker came when George had the day off and went off with his buddies to a local bar. Drunk, he staggered home and immediately began in on Jessica. Judy jumped in and he turned on her with an awesome fury—ending with his choking her. When she passed out, he got frightened and left the apartment. She came to with Jessica in tears with welts on her legs from the belt he used earlier. That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back and she took her purse and left the house, walking along the path that led along the Truckee. At Wingfield Park, she collapsed, exhausted. A homeless man, seeing her in her condition with a bruised child, made a phone call and the cops came and called the battered women's shelter. They were full but were expecting openings on Monday. The DFS was called and that was how Bethany Powers came upon the scene.  
  
This sad tale was told over breakfast and morning cartoons. At 9am on the nose, the front door opened and in came a short Mexican woman. This was Blanca, Cary's housekeeper and she took in the situation with a surprised look. No one was ever awake in this house during the daytime hours. Blanca kept her own counsel on this and Nick suspected she knew there was something not quite right with her employer, but she kept quiet on it. She walked up to Nick and addressed him.  
  
"Usted es senor Nick, la derecha?" she inquired, making sure of his identity.  
  
"Si," Nick answered in the positive.  
  
"Y quienes son esta gente y senor Cary los sabe esta aqui?" she demanded, wanting to know if Cary knew they were here.  
  
"El hace y se estan yendo pronto. Soy el esperar justo en su paseo," Nick explained making sure she knew that their stay was only temporary.  
  
"Bueno," she nodded, and went into the kitchen to check her to do list for the day. Nick smiled at how protective she was of her employer.  
  
"You speak Spanish really good," commented Jessica. "I'm taking it in school, and it's sort of hard. It's like English but backwards."  
  
"Thank you, Jessica. You should pick it up rather quickly though. I have an ear for languages," Nick told her, thinking that in 800 years he had picked up a few languages. But he though wryly, with the exception of the Asian languages, most of the others resembled his native French.  
  
Soon after this, and with Nick hiding a few yawns, the bell rang. Nick opened the door for Bethany and another woman, introduced as Hillary Cannick from the Committee to Aid Abused Women.  
  
They greeted Nick and told him what an angel he was. After some small talk, Nick made excuses about being tired from being up all night, though he didn't say why. The ladies understood perfectly and turned to go. Nick pulled Bethany aside and handed her some money, telling her to get Judy some new glasses with it. Bethany said that she would. Judy gave Nick a big hug, as did Jessica, remarking that Nick must be cold. By 10am they were all gone, with Blanca giving him a look that showed she approved of this. Nick told her good morning and headed upstairs and straight into bed, where he fell immediately asleep, thinking that he would have a place especially for such women, and men if they qualified, in his agency.  
  
That night, Nick awoke around 8pm, showered, got dressed and walked downstairs for his breakfast. He was poring himself a glass of cow when Cary came in, yawning.  
  
"Evening," greeted he, taking a pitcher of the real stuff and pouring it into his mug, then heating it.  
  
"Hi." Nick walked into the library and sat in one of the comfortable wing chairs there.  
  
"Everything work out all right?" Asked Cary, meaning the mortals.  
  
"It did." Silence for a moment as they enjoyed their respective meals. "I know who I would like to chose, for tonight." This said in a rather awkward way.  
  
"Really? You actually have someone in mind?"  
  
Nick nodded and was about to say something else when the doorbell rang. Cary got up to answer and came back in with Alex and Colin. Both were dressed in black, as was Cary. Nick supposed it was better that way and got up to shower and change.  
  
In the end, it was nearly midnight when the four left the house for the next parts of Nick's tests. The blond vampire figured it would be easier to show his flying skills by just doing it and so he did, leading them to a small apartment complex. He walked up to door 107 and knocked. The door was opened a crack, but Nick pushed in wider and entered the small dwelling.  
  
The apartment was very neat, if shabby looking. Nick's sharp eyesight picked out the spots of blood on the carpeting. The man who had opened the door was a tall fellow with brown hair and blue eyes. He was lean, but had a beer belly on him. He also smelled like a brewery, and indeed the cans of Miller lying around attested to the reason.  
  
"You the cops? If so, I ain't seen that bitch for the last three days," he told Nick.  
  
"A cop? No, not anymore. I take it you're George." Nick had to get the identification straight.  
  
"Yeah, so? If you ain't the cops, why the fuck are you here?"  
  
"Your wife and daughter..."  
  
"She ain't my daughter," interrupted George, with all the bluster of the drunk.  
  
"Your wife and daughter," Nick began once more, forcefully, "are safe."  
  
"So, who gives a flying fuck? Bitch'll come back, she always does."  
  
"She might, but she won't come back to you," said the vampire. He turned to Cary. "This is the one."  
  
"The one what? Who the hell are you?" George noticed Cary coming closer, bloodlust making his eyes seem golden and his fangs extended. The mortal went into a straight out panic. "Fuck! What's going on? Is this the dt's?"  
  
"No," said Cary, a growl to his voice. Then he pushed the man's head to the side and bit, no ceremony or forewarning, just a bite. George tried to struggle, but it was hopeless. Cary's eyes closed as he drank in the blood. Nick moved away for privacy, but Alex came forward. The Russian vampire took up George's wrist and sank his own fangs. Together, the two managed to drain the man in rather quick order. Alex let go first, staring at Cary's dark head. Then Cary pulled out, and sort of reclined on the couch, exhausted and a little tipsy from all the alcohol. Alex took advantage of this stupor to kneel down next to him and slowly lowered his head to the others lips. It took Cary, deep in his blissed state, a moment to recognize this and pull out. He pushed Alex away rather forcefully.  
  
"What are you doing?" Cary managed, putting a hand up—sort of semi shielding his eyes and tilting back his head—moaning in a sort of ecstasy as the full force of the blood hit his system.  
  
"Sorry, my darling. I got carried away," apologized the other, kissing his love's hand.  
  
Colin had seen enough. He was not exactly a sentimentalist.  
  
"Fine. Cary, snap the hell out of it. Nick, now what?"  
  
The former detective looked around and saw a .9mm on the end table. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Judy and Jessica would have never lived another hour if they had come home. Nick, knowing what had to be done but disliking it just the same, put the gun in the lifeless hands and made George pull the trigger—aiming at his throat. He gun made a short, very brief sound. Nick, knowing that vampires did not have fingerprints per se to leave, then arranged the scene very carefully to make it look like a suicide.  
  
A sound was heard approaching and the vampire's vanished faster than human eyes could see out the door and into the skies. 


	14. Nanette's Place

"_Oh my God, I'm back again..."_ cues music to _Everybody_ by the Backstreet Boys, changing lyrics.....

Huh, oh sorry. I'm getting tired of writing the same thing over and over and over.

Seriously though, thanks for reading. For this chapter I would like to thank a new site I found called Learning Russian dot com. It has the transliterations for Russian, so I don't have to write in Cyrillic, lol. I'm detailed, but not THAT detailed. Speaking of details, this chapter is sort of dry in spots. More excitement to come in the next chapter.

All characters besides canon ones are of my own creation. Names for the people who run the charities in the story come from my own imagination. Though I know some of them, in no way is this meant to resemble them at all. Except the fact that the head of Center Street Mission was nominated for a Jefferson Award.

The reference to Linz comes from the Susan Garrett story _Kind Soul_ and is used with her permission. See Susan's website for the Dorian stories to read it. Just type in _Kind Soul _and it should come up.

Same rating, same permissions, same everything. Oh, and I know how to end this now, only took a year...

**CHAPTER 14**

Cary was still reeling some when they landed on the turret above his bedroom. Colin opened the door mentally, making Nick take a small gasp of surprise. Colin looked at him as he led the way down the stairs to the bedroom proper.

"Some have one talent, some have another," he told the blond.

"I've never seen a vampire do that," whispered Nick, in a sort of stunned awe.

"Oh, there are vampires who can do much more than that," replied the Enforcer, watching Alex place Cary rather tenderly into the bed. "Take his maker, for example," he said pointing at the tipsy one. "She has powers that would astound you."

"Does he?"

Colin thought a moment. "Not that I've ever seen. I don't know whether that's from ignorance about them or just not having the capabilities. All vampires, Nick, have powers in one form or another, but need to be taught how to use them. You should see some of the fledglings we see.

"They don't even know how to fly. Some don't even know how to feed."

Nick shook his head. If anything, LaCroix certainly took his education in hand—and did it well at that.

"I can't imagine one who doesn't know how to feed," he said in disbelief. "I've seen others ignorant of other things perhaps, but that one thing?"

"Well," began Colin, and then cleared his throat at Alex. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Undressing him, priyatel," said back the Russian vampire, using a rather familiar form of address, sort of being 'buddy'.

"Why?"

"He'll be uncomfortable sleeping in his clothes." Alex was the picture of innocence, hand at Cary's belt.

"Give him a few moments and he'll be fine." At Alex's look, he glared at him, hard. "You don't want to make me angry Alex. Don't push it."

"Poshyol ti," muttered Alex, under his breath, using a very rude expression indeed.

"What did you say to me?" demanded Colin, getting gold in the eyes, fangs extending.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Alex backpedaled, realizing he had overstepped.

"Make sure of that, Alexandro Dmitrovich, panimat?"

"Da," replied he, chastened, with a longing look at Cary. Nick felt almost sorry for such unrequited passion. He could understand it, though.

"Good. Now, Nick, to get back to your earlier statement, I'll give you an example. Not too long ago we had a rouge bringing humans across for no reason other than plain arrogance. He would snatch them from clubs, bite them, and then leave them on their own with no knowledge of what was happening to them. Quite a few burnt to death, not realizing about the sun. Those who survived fed on hunger instinct alone and quite messily at that. Some of these died of starvation."

"So what happened?" Nick asked, thinking this had to be one of the worst willful massacres since Linz. For after all, the vampire did leave them to perish.

"We caught up with him and he was rather properly punished. I don't think you really want me to go into those details..."

The blond shook his head. "You're right, I don't."

"Smart lad." Colin smiled then, eyes back to normal color and fangs retracted.

On the bed, they heard a soft moan as Cary put his hands to his forehead.

"God, what did that man have to drink?" He asked, trying to shake it off.

"Ah, lyubimyj moj, are you feeling better?" Alex was all sympathy.

"I am thank you."

The auburn vampire smiled and placed a soft chaste kiss to Cary's temple.

"Good."

Cary turned to Nick, his eyes still a little dazed from the blood and the alcohol.

"So, you did well. Congratulations."

"Did I pass? Anymore little tests?"

A shake of the head, then Cary put a hand up as if he had a headache.

"Yes, you passed and no more tests."

Nick smiled. "Good."

Colin took a look at the sky, though his internal clock told him how far away from sunrise it was.

"It's getting lighter. We have to go. Alex?"

"I think I'll stay here, make sure Cary's alright."

Colin gave a small mirthless laugh.

"I don't think so. Let's go."

For a moment, Nick thought he was going to refuse. The Russian had more sense than that, though. He gave Cary another small kiss.

"Ya postoyanno dumayu o tebe."

"I'll think of you also, Alex. Good morning."

"Dobry dyen. Paka."

This to Nick as well, who returned the sentiment, which meant good morning, see you later. With that, he turned to go down the stairs to the car that he and Colin drove up in.

The Enforcer shook his head. "He gets more and more blatant with you every night, my friend."

Cary shrugged. "It doesn't do any harm. It's sort of flattering," he admitted.

Colin shook his head. "Be careful, Cary. It might be innocent now, but one day he might really try something and someone is going to be very hurt—emotionally, maybe even physically."

"I know how to handle myself Colin. I've had it happen for over a century now. Do you think Alex is the first man to ever proposition me? Hellfire, when I was a mortal child my brother tried to pimp me out on the streets—and not to ladies either. Trust me; I know how to manage him. I've been doing it for over a decade now."

"I'm just saying, be careful. Alex knows very little scruples and you know this."

Cary nodded, placating the elder vampire. Colin was more respectful of Cary, not only because of his leadership position, but also because of his maker. Helena was not one to mess with.

Nick watched all of this with interest. The three vampires—Colin, Cary, and Alex, seemed to be close friends. But there was always an undercurrent of something. Then of course, he thought, vampires were predatory creatures, never quite trusting of anyone. Especially other bloodsuckers.

Colin bid them goodbye and left to join Alex in the car—a Porsche, Nick noted with amusement. They certainly did not mind flaunting the wealth here.

Cary gave Nick a glance and then walked out his bedroom door and down to the back parlor and pressed the flashing light on the answering machine.

"Darling, Jill. I have to leave for LA. I'll be back on Saturday. Hugs and kisses." Then a big smacking sound.

"Cary, we have a supply chain problem. Call me. If not, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Andy," Cary told Nick. "My VP."

Nick remembered Andy—or Andrew as he introduced himself. A very proper British vampire who had been dressed in Harris tweed at a nightclub.

"Nick, this is Esme. Sorry I had to leave like that but the whole system went down here. I'll be out of town a few more days and I'll call when I get back. J'taime."

"J'taime? Nicolas, you dog."

The current slang sound so strange from Cary's mouth, Nick started to laugh. A few more messages, one from an insurance salesman and then Cary gave a huge yawn.

"Bedtime for me, Nick. I'll be laid out on the floor soon. Morning."

With that, Cary gave another yawn, resting a moment against the stairwell and trudged heavily up the stairs.

**Next** night, Nick awoke rather early. The sun was just setting with another spectacular show. That was the one thing he had to admit about Reno—they had beautiful sunsets. Of course, once it went behind the mountains it got dark rather quickly. Even now, in late spring it also got rather chilly.

He showered and dressed casually in black dress pants and a lighter blue shirt. Cary was still asleep he noticed as he went down for breakfast.

He was reading the newspaper, when Cary appeared, impeccable in his Ralph Lauren suit of charcoal grey.

"Alright Nick, I'm out of here. I'll see you tonight. Oh, and keep Friday open."

"Why?"

A slight smile as if hiding something from the other. "No reason. Just keep it open."

Nick shrugged. "Alright."

"Going to see how the plans are going?"

"No, I have a meeting with Project Restart. Center Street Mission has a database of clients and I want to go over that." _(A/N: I know because I created it for them. Back to the story, sorry)_

"Sounds like an enjoyable evening," Cary cracked. "Me, I'll be on the phone all night, or the computer trying to get things flowing smoothly. Our clients depend on us. See you."

And with that he was out the door, into his car, and off down the street. Nick finished his reading and washed his glass out. Then a last minute check to see if he had everything and he too was out the door.

A week before hand, the Caddy had arrived. Nick quickly got it registered and smogged and turned his drivers' license from a Canadian one to a Nevada one. Instead of Larry Merlin doing the work though, Esme's company did it and did it very efficiently. Nick was impressed and told Cary so.

Traffic was rather light so he decided to take a tour and turned right on McCarran Boulevard. This led south, as the loop circled the outskirts of the city. It was a nice drive and he had driven it often heading toward his building.

The road led down and around past Skyline and through the Park Ridge golf course past Plumas. Signs noted he was in the Toioyabe National Forest. From here the road went in an easterly direction, passing Keitzke, 395, and Virginia Street, with the towers of the Atlantis visible in the background. The torches that would define the hotel were not built yet, but the building was still an impressive site. Nick could also spot the rainbow colored letters of the Peppermill. If you looked you could see the laser show in the Atlantis' atrium. The street meanered past Meadowood Mall and once past Longley Lane, turned northward. It passed Mira Loma Park and Rock Boulevard in Sparks and Nick exited on Mill Street. A few miles up the road, over the city line that divided Reno from Sparks and he was at his building.

It was a long building of two stories, meant to be headquarters for some corporation. He pulled into the parking lot, admiring the newly painted yellow stripes designating parking and noticed the handicapped signs were up. He pulled into a spot labeled administration (he had refused his own space) and exited the Caddy, locking the doors for Reno had a wee bit of a problem with car theft. Major crime was almost nonexistent, but larceny lurked everywhere in the world.

The head of Project Restart, Jim Edwards, came to greet him.

"Place is looking good, Nick."

"Thanks," he greeted the tall, distinguished looking gentleman. Jim Edwards was an older man—Nick guessed early 50's with white hair. He dressed and acted like the rancher he once was—complete with Stetson hat and boots. For all that, he was a sophisticated gent who owned several real estate properties in town.

The two men walked into the building through the main doors. Nick had wanted glass doors for his entryway and was tried to be talked out of it. He prevailed though he did give in to the demand for tempered glass, not easily broken.

The reception area was bright and cheerful looking with comfortable chairs and a couch or two. The main desk, which would be manned by residents on shifts, stood new looking with holes for the computer equipment yet to be placed. The smell of sawdust and paint were in the air and Nick wrinkled his rather sensitive nose at it.

Down a corridor were the offices. It was decided that there would be very few employees on salary. The director, bookkeeper, social worker and teachers would be paid. All the rest would come from volunteers—either the residents themselves or community service workers. Off to the left was Nick's own office, smack in the middle of the building with no windows anywhere. The rest rooms, day room, and accounting office surrounded it. Nick was more than pleased with the arrangement the firm he had hired had come up with.

He entered his office with Jim on his heels and greeted the people in the room. Included were representatives from most of the charitable organizations in town including Center Street, the Gospel Mission, Salvation Army, CASA, Saint Vincent's, CAAW, HAWK, and others. In all, there were 12 people in the room of varying ages, educational backgrounds and race.

The meeting proceeded, with Nick laying out his plans. The residents would be referred from other agencies and would include homeless families. Homeless men, while more numerous, had a myriad of places to stay, though Nick told them he wanted to eventually open a satellite building for men.

The residents would be granted an extended stay, provided they met certain criteria for work. Since Reno was a 24 hour town and a lot of jobs included the graveyard shift, daycare would be provided on a round the clock basis. If a person could not work for some reason, they would work at the shelter.

All residents were required to apply for assistance—including housing and Nick went over several homes and apartments which could be used for transitional housing.

The more plans were made, the more excited Nick grew. This was a good move, he thought. Yes, he missed Toronto and his friends, especially Nat, but this was fulfilling work. He could truly atone here by helping others to get their life together.

Nick explained carefully why he would not be seen during the day very often, and provided medical reasons for it. A lot of sympathy went his way and Nick decided that he would take the graveyard duties. He got an inward laugh out of this for he had lived on the night shift for over 800 years. Of course he could emphasize with the third shift workers, he lived his life in third shift.

The meeting lasted about three hours but was very productive. Nick went over the ad copy for the Gazette Journal for the positions that were needed.

The gathering broke up and people milled around before leaving as they were wont to do at these affairs. Bethany pulled him aside with the news about George Stevens.

"It was terrible, Nick. He must have committed suicide, but no blood was found at the scene. Very strange."

"No doubt," commented Nick dryly. "How's Judy holding up?"

Bethany shook her head.

"Poor girl, she cried and cried. She blames herself, saying if she had not left then George would still be alive."

"Alive, but she would possibly be dead and Jessica as well."

"That's what we have been trying to tell her," Bethany agreed. "But you know how abused women are..."

"Yes, I know," said Nick, thinking of the several he had known in his life, including Janette. "That's why Nanette's Place is so important to me."

"I understand. You know, I was in that situation myself once. It was after the state took my son from me that I cleaned up my act—leaving my ex and going into rehab and getting my degree. The proudest moment of my life was when they gave my son back to me. He's at Reno High now. He plays in the band and is an honor student. That was my best revenge back at my ex."

Nick smiled at the women with a lot of respect. That was what people needed, a second chance. The director of Center Street was a former crank addict and now was so respected she had been nominated for a Jefferson Award.

Soon everyone left and Nick took out his key and opened the three locks to his private upstairs lair. Sentimentality made him dress it up to look very similar to his loft back in Canada. The furniture was different and it was slightly more upscale, as he didn't have to hide the fact that he had money, but from windows to skylights it was remarkably the same. Nick looked around in satisfaction. The phone had been installed and he looked at it for a few moments, debating. A decision was made and he dialed the 416 area code direct.

The phone rang several times and soon the familiar voice came on the line.

"Hi, Nat? It's me Nick."


	15. S & G Enterprises

Another chapter. I have to plug, btw, my new yahoo group called The Raven, which is an FK RPG. I haven't written yet, but I plan to in the future. Just trying to catch up on storylines now. Also, did you hear the news that Season 2 is being released, tentatively in January? Yippee!

Once again, VIN is the property of Susan Garrett.

Also, I set this story sometime in early spring of 1998—April, perhaps. According to Jasmine's FK website, _The Human Factor_ was set in 1996. There were 6 more episodes after that one, so that could conceivably take until 1998. Presuming that _Last Knight_ happened in early 1998 that would give Nick a few months off and also give Nat a chance to recover. But this is all speculation. Also, in Last Knight everyone is wearing winter clothing. Comments on this are welcome in the reviews or you can email them to me.

**CHAPTER 15**

"Nick?" Nat's voice sounded strong on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. How are you?"

"Fine, healing nicely. I'll be back at work in another month." Nat sounded surprised to hear from him. "Any you, how are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Then he told her all about the shelter. She laughed when he came to the name.

"Nanatte's Place? Flattering." A pause. "So have you met anyone yet?"

"I have. I'm staying with the leader of the Community here. His name is Cary and he's—interesting. There's a large Community here. There is even a sort of Raven here, except the backroom is where the vampires meet."

"Still interested in your humanity?"

Nick sighed. "No, that was a dream that I'm afraid won't come true. I wish it would, but I know it can't. So I just have to live with my monster—control it. Nanatte's Place will help with that. I can help people put their lives together. There is something satisfying in that."

"Well, Tracy is doing fine. Her father tried to get her to quit, but she's still determined. And Schanke is doing well. He and Myra just came back from a second honeymoon trip to the States. They went to Atlantic City for the weekend and then he came back complaining about how much money he lost."

Nick and she shared a laugh.

"So, Nick, how are you really feeling? You moved on. Isn't it unusual for a vampire to keep in contact with his old acquaintances?"

"For any normal vampire, but then again Nat, I am not a normal vampire."

"Do you still drink cow or are you back on the real stuff?"

"No still cow. I've drunk human blood twice since I've been here, both times out of a bottle. I seem to not be alone in that sense of not wanting mortal blood. I was told that a lot of newly born vampires are opting to drink animal blood as well. Screed would be proud." This last said as a joke.

"Tracy seems to really be missing Vachon. She and I go off a lot to movies or what have you."

A few seconds of rather awkward silence. Then Nat laughed at something Sydney did and she shared it with Nick. The conversation then turned more lighthearted—neither saying much really. Nick felt a sense of despair at this. Had they grown apart so soon?

Shortly after getting an update about the Captain's new house, Nick hung up the phone. Then he sat on the leather sofa. This one was softer than the other and still smelled new. He jumped up to one of the windows and looked out. This window faced sort of west so he could see the myriad colored lights that made up downtown Reno. It looked like a painting—fluorescent lights from the different casinos—purple from the Eldorado, white from Harrahs, pink from the Flamingo, the yellow arches of Circus Circus, and the silver domed ball on top of the Silver Legacy. All lit up. More concentration revealed Mount Rose and Slide Mountain. Mount Rose still had a dusting of snow on top, as it would until early summer.

Snow. Toronto, situated as it was, never got a lot of snow, if any really. Rain yes, snow no. Reno on the other hand got very little rain. It depended on the winter to bring the water with the snow melting off the mountains into the thirsty city, though groundwater wells were built to withstand Reno's longest drought which had been eight years.

Nick glanced at his watch and noticed the time was two am. 'I must have dozed off for a while', he mused. With a stretch, he rose from the rather comfortable couch; a real change over Cary's antiquated style of furniture.

He took on last look around and smiled. Another week or so and he would be here. True, he would miss the companionship, but figured the Center would keep him busy.

Nick exited out the private entrance in the back and unlocked the Caddy. Cary he knew was at work and curiosity overtook him as to _what_ exactly the dark haired vampire did for a living. So he drove southbound McCarran to Longley Lane and turned. The road was named appropriately, Nick mused, for it was a longley lane. He soon arrived at Cary's office, a square shaped building of one and a half stories. He pulled into the parking lot, noting with amusement that Cary had his own parking space—"Reserved for President", it said. Nick parked the Caddy and walked up the path into the main reception area.

Here sat two security guards, watching close circuit monitors, both vampires.

"Can I help you?" asked one, gruffly. The sentinel seemed to recognize his own kind. Nick wondered if mortals got the same treatment.

"I'm here to see Cary Shelley."

Both men laughed.

"No really, I'm a friend of his and I just got through with what I had to do and thought I'd come for a visit." The men still had grins on their faces. "Look, can you call him?"

One of the guards, Buck, by his ID badge, picked up the phone.

"Hey Abi, its security. I have someone here who is looking to speak with Mr. Shelley…I know, but he's insistent…Thanks a bunch, I'll hold." Silence as he held the line and asked Nick his name, which he divulged. "Ms. Arron? I have a Nick Knight down here and…Of course, ma'am." More silence. "Yes, Ms. Arron, I'll send him right down. Thank you." Buck hung up and shoved a clipboard at Nick. "Sign in."

Nick signed and a visitors badge was given to him with the admonishment to wear it at all times. The other guard pressed a button and Nick was allowed entry into S & G Enterprises—whatever that was.

What he stepped into was a call center. A large room of desks, all connected in one wavy line with divider walls between them and a computer and phone at each station. The walls were decorated—some with sports teams, others with frogs or bears, or just blank. People—no--_vampires _sat at these desks, most chatting on the phones or working on the computers. Each had a name plate on a wall so that one could stand at the end of a diagonal row and see all the names quite clearly.

Nick estimated that 90 percent of these vampires were wearing headphones. Others were ensconced in glass enclosed cubicles, managers by the names on the walls. In the middle was a huge square desk, elevated from the rest of the floor. This held more people, no walls, and more computers and looked to be some sort of operation center.

"Can I help you?" asked a young, efficient looking vampire, who stood behind a small reception desk crowded with pictures of rabbits from the Trix Rabbit to Bugs Bunny to some left over Easter ones. Even her screen saver was of a rabbit. Nick had to smile when he noticed her name was 'Bunny', even though her badge read Abigail. She was young, maybe 18 or 19.

"I'm meeting Mr. Shelley."

"Yes, please wait here for Ms. Arron. Thanks." She gave a bright smile to the handsome blond and went back to typing whatever she was working on.

Nick took a seat and crossed his ankles, patient. The center was very busy and Nick noticed some mortals in with the vampires. Bunny looked at him.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked.

Nick was startled. "No, thanks." A drink?

A few minutes later, a sinuous blonde came over to him. She held her hand out.

"Nick Knight? Gwen Aaron, Cary's administrative assistant. You wanted to see him?"

The male vampire gave this women a once over. Assistant, huh?

"Yes I did. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by, as a surprise."

"Well," laughed Gwen, "he certainly will be that. If you would follow me, please?"

The secretary led the way to the back of the center and up the staircase to the executive offices. The catwalk led to the right and to the left. Nick noticed a suite for Alex and was led down the hall to the right and to the end. There the name plate by the door read CARY SHELLEY—CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER AND PRESIDENT. He shrugged, thinking it did fit the other's ego.

Gwen entered the outer office, obviously hers. It was very Victorian, just like the house. Nick smiled and shook his head at that. Cary did love his era, or at least the upper class part of it. Nouveau rich, which was what he was. LaCroix would love him and his pretensions.

The girl Friday, for that was what Nick would find out she was, knocked twice on the door to the closed inner office. A voice said to enter. Gwen opened the door, told Cary who was calling and left the room, shutting the means of entry behind her.

"Nick!" Exclaimed Cary, standing and holding his hand out, as if he hadn't seen him in an eon. "What brings you to this place?"

Another shrug. "Just wanted to see where you worked and what it was you did here."

"Well, so you see."

"No, I don't."

Cary sighed and brushed a dark hair back from his forehead and gestured for Nick to sit in a very plush bergere chair in dark rose, very elegant and plush. Nick looked at the computer Cary had been working at and noticed—free cell. He blinked once or twice at that.

"I take it you've been working hard," he commented, sarcastically.

The brunette vampire laughed a little and smiled, showing all his nice white teeth. As with most vampires, if you looked very closely, with a microscope perhaps, you would see the tips of the fangs. Cary had smaller secondary ones behind the first as well, an inheritance from his master possibly. Nick had noticed this when he bit the mortal Jill had brought for him.

"Very." Cary deadpanned. "Actually, I just finished accounts payable—fun fun signing checks, spending money."

"So, you never answered my question," Nick got to the point. "What do you do here, exactly?"

"Oh, sorry. Well, we sort of do distribution. Of products that vampires could use and some that mortals use as well—hairless shavers, exercise machines, and the like. Telemarketing you could call it. Of course the—umm, special employees are routed for things like Sanger wines and the like. We are one of five centers that supply blood wine orders. There is one here, one in Miami, one in London, one in Kyoto, and one in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Lots of money in this business."

"That's all you do?" Nick was amazed. Cary's wealth couldn't come from just _that_. And the center was fully employed.

"Well, no, we also run VIN."


	16. VIN & The Feast

Not me, TPTB.

**CHAPTER 16**

"_You run VIN?"_ Nick's jaw dropped almost to the floor.

"It was my idea. I thought vampires needed help and decided to use the new 900 numbers to give it to them, at a price of course."

"Five dollars a minute is quite a price," Nick murmured. "And then ten dollars a minute after two hours." A thought hit him. "Wait a minute. You banned me from VIN."

"Not from the automated part, Nick. Just the Assistance."

"Is that how you knew all about me?" He thought of Esme and her comments on Nat.

"Partly. If we have a problem, I do listen to the tapes. But basically Larry and Aristotle told me—also Colin ran a check with your local Toronto Enforcers."

"So I take it VIN makes you quite a bit of cash," Nick said, cautiously.

"It does. We require now that every master gives every fledgling a VIN card, so everyone eventually calls in."

"But how—"

"My late partner Hasani came up with the technology. He was a whiz, a real Philadelphia lawyer, to be sure. Do tell, he actually had the nerve to patent it, imagine that?"

"Remarkable. So you have Melissa still here?"

"No. She's one of the ones who walked into the sun over you. You had half my counselors really depressed. I was of a mind to come to Canada to see you in person, give you a good talking to."

Nick shook his head once more. He had rung up huge phone bills calling VIN—the Vampire Information Network with its myriad of options. You could get automated advice on everything from transition assistance to suicide to reporting a sighting. Or you could talk to a volunteer who would listen to one pour out their heart—or what was left of it. In fact, Nick had used VIN more than once while waiting on Cary to return from South America when he first got to town.

"So you sign regular paychecks?"

"I do, through First Bank of Nevada. The bank's actually a front for Paul," Cary laughed again. "But the money and checks are real. So are the bills. The humans don't have an idea as there are many shift workers in this town. We open at 7pm and close at 7am. Of course, the immortals get off early, but that is a privilege the humans don't know about."

"I didn't think there were that many vampires in town to operate this business."

"There aren't. They fly in from all over to come to work—mainly from the western states—a lot of Californian's and Washingtonian's. Oregon is well represented as well, Idaho not so much."

"Well," was all Nick could think of saying, knocked back. He looked thoughtful for a moment an then—"You said your 'late' partner. Was he a human?"

"No, he was a vampire. He came from Africa—very well off family, very educated. I met him in the 1950's, when I was over there. I was visiting on a safari, got lost and almost starved to death. I came upon a small village and was the kiss of death to the population. Then Hasani came by, quite by chance and we clicked. In fact, Gwen was his girl before she became my office assistant."

"So, what happened?"

"It was during the troubles a while back and he walked into the sun—so they say. I still don't believe it for a moment, but the Council ruled it a suicide."

"He's the G in your company, isn't he?" Nick commented, as the fact dawned on him. He did a classic double take then. "Hold it. You said you ate a whole village?"

"I was hungry and the bloodlust just came over me. I couldn't help it and they were so malnourished I was lucky to actually get a full meal."

Now that was just cold. It was also against his rules and Nick told him so.

"I know," Cary sighed. "I was called on the carpet for it. Hasani and Paul vouched for me. As did Andy, who I had met around the same time. I made Paul my CFO and Andy my XO."

Cary shook himself as if from a bad memory.

"Enough of this melancholy. Do you want a tour of the place?"

Nick agreed to this and Gwen came in at Cary's call over the phone and Nick was led around the facility. It was modern and it seemed full of oblivious humans. He was then shown the drink machines. There was the standard Coke, Pepsi, and an automated food vending contraption. But there was also a juice machine that operated on tokens. Gwen informed him that it was a blood machine—in bottles. She proved it by inserting a huge coin and pressing a button that said spicy tomato juice. Out came a bottle that looked for all the world like a V-8, except for the dark black label that showed it was from Sanger. Opening it, Nick discovered it was human blood.

"We also have bovine blood for those so inclined. It's marked low fat spicy juice."

"Don't the humans try to get it?"

"They do, but they don't have the tokens. No one really likes spicy juice anyway. The vampires tell them it's like drinking Tabasco."

Nick wrinkled up his nose. This took gall, gumption—call it what you would. A company listed on the NYSE (this was told to him by the blonde), having regular paychecks (direct deposited all), AP, AR, and even PR and Sales. Fantastic.

The tour ended after about two hours and Nick even got to take a few calls. He had never done this kind of work before so it was sort of exotic, in a strange way. Then back up to Cary's office, where he was done with the free cell and was playing tri-peaks solitaire.

"You're back! Did you enjoy your tour?"

A nod from the other male vampire in the room. "I see you're still busy," he remarked.

"Bored. Unfortunately we can get a lot of work done in a short amount of time. It works alright sometimes, but at others…"

"Trust me, I understand completely." Nick sat back down in the chair he had occupied previously. "So you heard my calls. Then you know about Natalie Lambert."

"We do. There was quite a fuss kicked up over that. Some wanted her killed."

Nick swallowed as Cary continued.

"But she was considered an asset to the Community and we figured we could use her. We need more doctors and scientists brought across, you know. And she has knowledge of the vampire that few living humans have. Then came that plague and she was given a pass—for now. Naturally, if you had continued on your course of action, plans would have been made but things happened and here you are, away from the bad influences those mortals had on you."

"I had those thoughts before I had met Dr. Lambert," Nick protested.

"I realize that, but you didn't succeed and your master, LaCroix or Miss Ducharme managed to circumvent you from a course of action considered traitorous."

Eyebrows rose at that. He hadn't realized that he had been in danger of elimination.

"How do you know all of this, by the way, Cary?"

"Council meeting twice a year. Talk about boring. This year it's to be held in Vegas and London." Cary closed his game, which he had been playing during the whole conversation and stood up. "Well, I think we should go."

"Can you just do that?"

"I own the place, Nick. I can do what the hell I please. Who's to stop me?"

"Me," said a new voice.

Both immortals looked up to see the new vampire standing in the doorway.

"Nick, you remember Andy, don't you?"

Londoner Andrew Neal held his hand out. "Good to see you again, Nick. Trying to get our Cary to play hooky, eh?" He shook his head at his boss. "For shame Carrick Patrick Seamus O'Shellington."

"That's quite a handle," the French vampire commented, without any real expression.

"Yes," Cary said irritated. "Andrew, you know I don't like that name."

A grin from the other, who was taller than both Cary and Nick with light brown hair and blue eyes. He also had the prominent teeth particular to English vampires and British royalty. They were straight, but huge. His fangs were probably enormous, thought the blond to himself.

"So what work have you brought me to do?"

"Paperwork—just a few signatures needed, Cary. That's all."

"Fine," said the other sounding exasperated, even though it was only about two in the morning. He took the sheaf of papers from Andrew's hand and read through them with inhuman speed. He signed them, making notations in the margins on some. Then he gave them back, bid his vice president goodbye and left, Nick in tow.

"Freedom! Did you bring your car?" Cary asked Nick.

"Of course."

"Good, I feel like a drive. We'll take yours."

They walked to the Caddy and got in.

"Put the top down," suggested the passenger. Nick was thoroughly confused. Cary was acting as if this was a date. Then Nick realized that it was just immortal seduction coming through—something the Victorian vampire excelled at. He knew he was handsome and used it to the nth degree. He was a metro sexual before the word was even coined. The dark vampire was also a bit of a flirt. A real tease, witness his attitude toward Alex.

Nick started the car and Cary directed him to drive to the Atlantis. Once at the tropical themed casino, Nick gave valet his keys at Cary's insistence and they walked into the casino through the newly renovated lobby.

His companion led the way to the escalator by the waterfall and up to the second floor. They found themselves in the arcade.

"More games?" Nick laughed.

"In a way," said Cary absently as he led past the Steakhouse and to the nightclub. They paid and entered the flashing lights and loud music of the club. Cary made his way to the bar and ordered a merlot. Nick declined as people of both sexes walked by, checking out the two good-looking men standing there, obviously well off. A redhead and a brunette walked up to them. They stood at the bar and Cary smiled.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he offered.

The brunette batted her eyelashes, in love at first sight. Nick was disgusted. What was happening here? The redhead glanced at him, cocking her head and Nick bought her a beer. She began flirting with him and he was making polite conversation when he noticed Cary and the other woman on the dance floor, moving together very suggestively.

After a couple of dances, they returned, and proceeded to "spoon", as Cary might say. Nick could smell the blood as the endorphins started to kick in on the girl. The kiss was getting more passionate, with the woman's whole body pressed against the sanguinary vampire.

"You want to get out of here?" Cary asked, nonchalantly.

Nick was aghast. He tapped the other on the shoulder and they excused themselves to ostensibly go to the restroom. In reality they stood in a corner of the hallway leading to some mysterious inner part of the hotel.

"Are you insane? What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting ready to have dinner," Cary answered, nonplussed.

"Dinner?"

"I'm just going to drain a few pints, not kill her."

"Cary," Nick was firm on this, "what about those rules. You drain her in front of a nightclub full of people and they are bound to notice when she passes out from blood loss."

"For one, she's a tourist and has a room in the hotel. I'll drink, erase the memory but leave the pleasurable part. She'll just think she had great sex and got a nice hickey. Trust me, I've done this before."

Nick let out a long breath and sighed. He supposed he couldn't stop him.

They walked back into the club and Cary's meal, Diana by name, asked him back to the room. Naturally the dark haired vampire agreed and left the club with her to a lot of envious stares. If they only knew, Nick thought.

His 'date', Noreen was turning out to be a bright and bubbly girl with a great sense of fun. They got into an air hockey match in the arcade. She probably thought he was gay; Nick smiled to himself as he had not made even a hint of a pass. Well, sometimes it was better that way.

In a couple of hours, Cary returned sans Diana, naturally. Nick could just catch the fangs and slight glow to the eyes. They bid Noreen adieu, after she gave Nick her number and told him to call.

"I'll be in town for another few days. We'll get together."

Then the two vampires left.

"What about your car?" asked Nick. In actuality he was pissed off, to use a rather vulgar term.

"Drop me at the office and I'll go get it," Cary said dreamily. The blood was hitting his system and he leaned back with a smile on his face.

"You won't kill anyone tonight, will you?" inquired Nick, anxious.

"No, I'm full. I'm just going to get the car and drive home. It'll be sun up soon."

So that is what happened and the week proceeded with Nick overseeing his almost completed Center. That Friday, Cary told him to dress sharp for they were going out—and no, not to a club to feast on humans. Somewhere special, a treat for the French vampire before he left and moved into his own place.


	17. Sangus

Insert disclaimer here. Thanks to Queen of the Damned, the movie, for the inspiration. I suppose the club is their property, but I changed several things. Warning for very strong PG 13.

**CHAPTER 17**

Nick appeared downstairs that night dressed in khaki pants, sweater and his trenchcoat. He was thinking he was looking rather good when Cary sauntered into the room. Nick suddenly felt much underdressed for Cary wore black leather pants, a green turtleneck and motorcycle boots. He topped this with a leather jacket.

"Nick," he started, stating the obvious, "you need to redress."

"Where exactly are we going?" Nick idly thought that it was a good thing his friend was dead as the pants were so tight he wondered how Cary was going to sit. Not that he was looking there but really.

"Surprise, I told you. Change into something different. No khaki. The sweater and overcoat can stay."

Nick did as told and changed into a pair of black jeans which went very well with his blonde hair and he also changed into a blue shirt to match his eyes. Coming downstairs, Cary expressed approval for the change. Once again, Nick wondered about him.

Soon they were cruising down North McCarran to 395 and south down the highway to South McCarran and on their way to Meadowood Mall. Cary parked in the lot and checked his pockets.

"We're going shopping?" Nick asked, incredulous.

"No. We're taking the bus to our destination."

"Why?" asked the blond vampire as they walked toward the southern Citifare hub and sat in a bus shelter.

"Because where we are going, I don't want my car seen. It's a rather hidden place and publicity is verboten."

Nick shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, it was a bit chilly that night. The number one bus soon came along and they got on the nearly deserted vehicle. Again came the eyes checking them out but Cary was seemingly not interested that night.

The bus lumbered its merry way up Virginia Street and stopped downtown at the main bus transfer station—right across the street from the Bowling Center. They got off and sat for a few minutes until another bus showed up and they boarded that bus toward Sun Valley.

Up Virginia Street the bus went until it turned into Sun Valley Drive. They got off the bus just before Gepford Parkway and Cary waited till the bus left and turned down a side street. Halfway down the block, he checked his surroundings and glanced at Nick.

"From here, we fly," he announced taking off in a hurry so no human could see him do it. Nick followed, silently.

After a rather short flight, they arrived at their destination in the middle of no where. There were several ranches around and also some cattle standing in the road. They landed in front of one of these ranches, which looked like a dilapidated farm house. The door was solid though and the bolt and deadlock were brand new.

Cary walked up to the door and knocked twice. A slot opened in the door and was slid back when whoever it was saw them standing there. The means of entry opened and Nick was surprised to hear modern dance music. They got their hands stamped and walked through a narrow hallway with backlights. Then Cary pushed through another door and stood there watching Nick's face. The other was shocked at what he was witnessing.

The club was dark with strobe and multicolored lights everywhere. A bar was along one wall and a stage next to it. A band was playing the music and people were dancing and lounging around on couches. Or rather, not people—vampires. Oh, there were some mortals but they were all zombified looking with visible bite marks on their necks and wrists. Some vampires were actually drinking from these humans, while others were sharing blood with others of their kind. The atmosphere was eerie and Nick did not like it at all.

Cary led the way to a table off the dance floor and a cocktail waitress in pure black rubber came up to them.

"Hey there, handsome. What would you like?"

"I'll take a number 16 and Nick here will have a number 24."

"Alright, sit tight and it'll be right up," she cheerfully told them and left with a wiggle of her butt.

The dark vampire turned to his friend.

"So, what do you think?"

"I don't. What the hell is this place?"

"This Nicolas is a blood bar. We congregate here and the mortals are allowed in only with their hosts. To feast on somebody's donor is considered very rude. If you do want human blood and don't want to kill for it though and won't feast like I did the other day, this is the perfect place. The blood is very fresh here and if you ask prettily enough, the hosts will be glad to share."

The waitress interrupted this and placed two bottles in front of them, with full glasses.

"Here y'all go. One number 16 and one number 24. Enjoy." And she walked off with the same motion.

Nick looked at the glasses and the bottles. "What are these, pray tell?"

"Blood wine. Number 16 is the best human vintage—nice and warm, very fresh. Yours is bovine—also fresh, though I still don't see how you can drink that swill. In Africa I had to drink from a monkey and I thought I would be ill."

"You get used to it," mumbled Nick under his breath. He took a tentative sip and realized Cary was right. It was good. "So, do you ask a lot?" he inquired.

"I don't really. You have to really careful for a lot of these mortal idiots use different drugs that really can get to your system. I remember I drank from one once and was so sick I actually could not drink blood at all. I was really starving then and no one knew what to do."

"So what happened?"

"Helena. She just showed up one night and did a blood drain and voila, sickness gone once I got some of her stronger blood."

Nick shuddered. "A blood drain. I can't even contemplate of such a thing. Wasn't it painful?"

"They are. She's done it more than once," Cary admitted, confirming what Jill had said. "The results though are worth it. Or at least I think it's worth it. If you speak with others, they don't. Dang if I know why, though."

"I've heard through the grapevine that you seem to be a little colder each time," Nick told him, wondering how he would take the news that he knew of these blood drains. Again, he did not reveal his source. A good cop knew that ground rule.

"Really?" Cary said, archly. "Well, maybe it's true. Who knows?"

Nick looked up suddenly for a female vampire dressed in a very short leather mini skirt and off the shoulder sleeveless top came up to them.

"Hi sugar. Long time no see. How have you've been?"

"Fine Darla. And yourself?" asked Cary of the blonde.

"I've been better. Lost my donor to blood loss, too bad. But I've got another, want to share?"

"No thanks, not tonight. Maybe some other night."

Darla came up and put her arms around him and gave him a lingering kiss. Nick could see a bit of blood flowing.

"But why?" she whined to him, teasing. "You know you want too. Your cute friend can share as well. He's clean."

"Maybe later," Cary said, sort of giving in. Nick just indicated his disapproval of the whole situation with a rather Gallic shrug.

"I'll be back. You know you can't get rid of me that easy, Cary." She smirked at him, with a wink.

"A challenge, Darla? You know how I love challenges."

That got a cat that caught the canary grin. Darla gave him another kiss and left them.

"Clean?" Asked Nick, intrigued beside himself.

"The donor, not you," answered Cary. "Some have AIDS or something or are on drugs. She means that he is just probably drunk. It's a good way to get that way. Or, as I said, you can get very ill indeed."

A moment passed as both men sipped their respective blood.

"Why did you bring me here?" Nick inquired a little more harshly than he intended.

"Why not? I told Alex I would bring you here before you left; you are leaving Monday; you're here."

"Is this the only one in town?"

Cary took another sip of his glass, smiled at the taste, and shook his head in a negative fashion.

"Where are the others?"

"Around. A fancy one is in Incline Village, up in Tahoe. It's almost like a spa and is run by a man by the name of Victor Zelling. He's a mortal, believe it or not, but is knowledgeable about us and built us this lodge. He's absolutely off limits blood-wise, but is very witty. He's a New York intellectual, I guess you could say. Very active in Nevada politics."

"That's it?"

"Well, there is a rather seedy one down south toward Carson, but you really don't want to go there. I won't even go there. I went once and once is enough."

"Why didn't I know things like this? I feel really—stupid," Nick admitted. It was hard for him to admit that, but it was true. He felt dim.

"You don't hang around the Community. You are a mortal lover, so you don't keep up with vampiric things. I bet your master knows about them."

Nick grimaced at the thought of LaCroix. He was the one vampire he did not want to see for a long while, though they had been getting along. He laughed out loud, despite himself.

"I bet LaCroix would love to see me in a blood bar. He would really get a kick out of it, in a perverse sort of way."

Cary toyed with his glass, running his finger around the rim.

"You know, his show is syndicated and he has a column in The Vamp Times."

A blink from the blond vampire, who watched a mortal orgasm while being sucked almost dry by a gothic looking girl. She looked at him and gave him an inviting grin. Nick looked away to her disappointment.

"What is The Vamp Times?"

"TVT. Jill works for them. It's the vampire newsletter, sent out on a monthly basis. It's full of news about happenings, promotions, and the like. Jill has a column there and she's the music critic. She's quite the singer, you know."

"No, I didn't."

"That's what she did as mortal. She sang and danced in the chorus and nightclubs. I thought she told you this?"

"I guess it slipped my mind," said the ex-detective absentmindedly. He was watching several illegal activities take place—murder being one of them as a body was carried out, quite obviously dead. He felt ill all of a sudden and very dirty. This was against every rule he knew and all his morals.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wound around his neck. It was the girl who he was looking at earlier. She licked his earlobe and he felt the blood rise and his fangs start to come in, but he controlled it to stop. The girl looked irked, to say the least.

"So, handsome, what's your problem? Don't want to play?" She asked, her eyebrow pierce sparkling in the lights.

"Unfortunately he's not into this scene, Rennie." Cary glanced at a smoldering Nick. "It's really too bad for he could probably have a lot of fun with you."

"Hmm, how about you, gorgeous?"

"I asked first, Rennie." It was Darla returned, looking territorial.

"Girls," began a rather pleased Cary, "please." Nick rolled his eyes. He wondered if this is what everyone had meant by if Cary got too much. The ego and hormones were raging now in his pal. "Now, if you want to play, alright. But Nick is older than us, and he has to drive us home."

Nick took a deep breath, angry as hell. Cary was on the verge of getting very drunk, from the blood and the mortal he drank from earlier. Darla put her arms around him and kissed the tipsy vampire deeply, while Rennie came from behind and began to suck his earlobe. To understate, Nick felt uncomfortable and extremely mad. This was not fun.

Darla by this time was in Cary's lap and he ran a hand under her skirt as she moaned, deepening the kiss. Rennie meanwhile was caressing him all over and touching Darla a little as well. She was slowly making her way down to his neck.

Suddenly, Nick stood.

"I want to go. Now."

Cary looked up—yellow eyed and fanged. He was rather out of it. "Why?"

"It's getting late, sunup soon.

"Sunup is in a few hours, we'll be home soon enough." He leaned his head back as Darla was licking and priming the other side of his neck.

"I want to go. Now, or you can get home by yourself."

"Like I can't?" asked the other, now getting his adreline up.

"No, I don't think you could. Unless of course you want to stay here past sunrise…"

Cary growled but somewhere in his fogged mind he realized the wisdom in that. He peeled both females off. They were understandably put out, but he soothed them by telling them he'd be back next Friday. Another kiss from both of them and Nick and Cary made their way to the front door. Before they left, Cary left the tip for the waitress and paid the bill—in cash, unusual for him but sound.

They took to the air, Nick having to direct Cary at times and back to the bus stop. There Nick lifted Cary's mobile phone and dialed the taxi number he had seen around town. The van like Whittlesea showed up, the driver grinning at what he thought was the two men around town, one drunk.

At Meadowood Mall, Nick bundled a sleepy vampire into his car and drove to the house. He carried him upstairs, took his shoes off and left him rest. Then he got undressed, took a cleansing shower and went to sleep himself.


	18. A Songfic from Jill

Ok, this is like a song fic. I don't own any of the songs or Nick, but I do own everyone else. Enjoy.

**CHAPTER 18**

The next evening, Nick awoke to a pounding on the door. He slipped on a robe and padded down the stairs. Blanca was just leaving, late for her. She crossed herself when she saw him and then left, with a look at who was at the door. It was Esme.

"Chere, I'm back. Miss me?" She gave him a kiss.

"I did, actually. It's been an interesting time."

"Umm, so I heard. How was the place?"

"What place?"

"Sangus—the blood bar. That's what's it's called, you know."

Nick shook his head. "No, I didn't. Cary did not exactly volunteer much information."

Esme snorted, telling Nick what she thought of the Community leader.

"Sound like Mr. Conceit. How bad did he get?"

Nick sighed and told her about the night and then the whole week, including about the grand opening of the Center tomorrow.

"I have to go out during the day, but I'll get there later this morning so I don't have to catch the sun. It's going to be bad enough."

"Je comprends, mon ami." Esme laughed. "So, can I come in, s'il vous plait?"

"Sorry, alors." Why the French around this woman all the time? "Please, enter. You're not related to Dracula you know, you can cross a threshold without being invited."

"Are you sure? I thought I saw some salt outside," giggled the blonde at the joke on the old myths.

"I guess we should be glad it didn't rain and run off into the gutters…" Nick was laughing now as well.

"So happy. I'm so glad. How's my Cary?" This was Jill who had come up soon after Esme. She had waited on Blanca to leave. The maid scared her for she had true faith and so the cross she wore was deadly to them.

"He's alive, to use a phrase. He really went on a bender last night."

"He does that, unfortunately. At least Helena didn't show up to…help him. She normally will if he overdoes."

The three walked into the house and into the Study where Nick and Esme sat next to each other on the couch and Jill sat in a rather modern recliner. It looked out of place, but Cary had told Nick it had sentimental value.

"So, Jill; Cary tells me that you sing."

"I do." A chuckle at that. "In fact, that's how I kept him busy the Night of the Mortals." She made it sound ominous.

"Really?" said Esme, archly. "Whatever did you do?"

"Do you really want to hear all the prurient details?"

Esme gave a very French shrug. "Why not."

"Alright." She arose and got everyone a glass of plasma, except Nick who got cow.

"I got in there, his bedroom that is," she began, "and he was just coming out of the shower. He looked like a real Valentino in his grey pants and green sweater that brought out his eyes and his hair was still partially damp and it curled…"

"We get the picture," remarked Esme, dryly.

"Sorry, I get carried away. Anyhow, as I said, he was dressed, but not entirely. He headed for the door to go downstairs and I stood in front of him, blocking his way."

"'Where are you going?' I think I was rather anxious to know."

"'To get something to eat because I'm hungry, why?'"

"He then kissed me on the forehead and moved to go around me but I still blocked the door. I panicked and moved to stop him once more. He looked exasperated."

"'I want to show you something,' I told him, thinking frantically. He gave a sigh of annoyance. He does that a lot."

"'What?'"

"I looked around then grabbed his hand and led him to the sitting room, which you know is just off the bedroom proper, next to the fireplace. His bedroom is huge, by the way. Have you seen it all? The bed is huge and the bath is off to the right. Straight back from the show his giant closet. Opposite the bathroom is the door to the loft and next to that is the fireplace and caddy corner to that is the sitting room which is shaped like a stop sign, like his office. The stairs to the attic…"

"Jill, does this have anything at all to do with the story?" asked a puzzled Nick.

"Sorry, I told you I get carried away at times. In any case, I led him to one of those chaise sofas—you know the type. The kind you can lay on? Cary calls it a fainting couch…"

"Get on with it, please," chided Esme.

"I will, I will. Anyway, I made him sit and made him promise to stay and I few down to the pantry to get him some chow. You remember, Nick, when I just flashed past you? I got back to the room as quick as I could and found him standing and staring out the window.

"'Clear night,' he commented, as he accepted the glass I poured. He made a small face, for he prefers it warm."

"'Yes, it is', I replied, thinking this was going very well. The setting was perfect with the star shine streaming through the windows. Then he turned to me."

"'So, what did you want to show me?' he asked, sipping the blood."

"Thinking quick I told him that Kitty was thinking of putting on a cabaret night at the club and that I was auditioning a new act. No reply, so I kept on. I told him that we actually had a lot of talent here and Gina can even do contortions. Plus, I could perform—I miss that, you know."

"No, I didn't. Do you really?" asked Nick.

"I do. I loved being in front of the audience. What is it that Roxie Hart says in Chicago? I love them and they love me and we love each other. I told him that I wanted to show him part of the act, for only him and tell me what to leave in and take out. He agreed."

"I led him back to that couch thing and pushed him down upon it. Then I began my first song—seductively. I totally vamped it out, and not like us but more like Theda Bara. Now, I was doing this off the top of my head, so I came out with the first song that came to my mind:

"Love soft as an easy chair. Love fresh as the morning air. One love that is shared by two, I have found in you."

"Now I sang this song all the while flitting around him like a butterfly. At the songs end, I sat on the chaise, hovering above him, just inches away from his lips."

"Time we've learned to sail above. Ti-time won't change the meaning of, one love. Ageless and ever, ever…green—and landed at the foot of the sofa on my knees."

"'Is that actually going into your act?' He sounded kind of hoarse.

"'Perhaps,' I told him. How about this one. Now this song I did as a complete torch number, sort of like Michelle Pfeiffer in The _Fabulous Baker Boys_?"

"I touch your lips and all at once the sparks go flying, those devil lips that know so well the art of lying. And though I see the danger, still the flame grows higher, and so I must surrender to your kiss of fire."

"I went through the whole thing with lots of body language. I faded off with a kiss to his luscious lips and noticed just the smallest of golden flecks."

"Give me your lips, the lips you only let me borrow. Touch me tonight and let the devil take tomorrow. I know that I must have your kiss although it dooms me, though it consumes me, your kiss of fire."

"And with that I collapsed on top of him. He started to clap very softly at my performance, which was rather good, if I must say. I mock bowed and then fell to my knees by his chest and began the next song, which I must say I dedicated to him—fully. Of course, it wasn't exactly a cabaret number, but now I wanted to enthrall him and I do love this song.

"The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes. And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave, to the dark and the end of the skies."

"I gave this without much embellishment. Just the song and myself for him.

""And the first time ever I kissed your mouth, I felt the earth move in my hand. Like the trembling heart of a captive bird, that was there at my command, my love."

"I noticed his eyes get deeper saffron and his fangs were visible. I smiled at my triumph for he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon."

"And the first time ever I lay with you, I felt your heart so close to mine. And I knew our joy would fill the earth, and last till the end of time my love. The first time, ever I saw, your face. Your face, your face--."

"He grabbed me at the end of this number and kissed me hard. I felt his fangs against my tongue and then he left my mouth and started to travel downwards but I pulled away. He growled deeply, his eyes pure amber. Shaking with a bit of excitement from our little petting session, I got up and ran a nail from hair to waist and began the next song. Now I was a lap dancer, like in Flashdance. I also paraphrased the song a little."

"Whatever Jill wants, Jill gets. And Cary, little Jill wants you. Make up your mind to have, no regrets. Recline yourself, resign yourself you're through. I always get, what I aim for. And your heart and soul, is what I came for. Whatever Jill wants, Jill gets, take off your clothes don't you know you can't win? You're not exception to the rule, I'm irresistible you fool, give in. Give in, give in."

"And then I got off him before he could do anything at all. I looked at him and realized what you realized that night. That Cary was gone and I was dealing with the vampire—a very aroused vampire. And as you two know, that's something else entirely."

"There wasn't a drop of green in his yes and his fangs were fully extended, which really turned me on, let me tell you. I also heard his low, rumbling growls. The look on his face was of pure lust."

"Now my last song, I knew would put him over the top and myself as well. I got as sultry and as sexy as I could probably get. More so than Madonna.

"Sooner or later you're gonna be mine, sooner of later you're gonna be fine. Baby, it's time that you face it, I always get my man."

"I was climbing all over him by this time."

"Sooner or later you're gonna decide, sooner or later there's nowhere to hide. Baby, it's time, so why waste it in chatter? Let's settle the matter. Baby, you're mine on a platter, I always get my man."

"I did give him a lingering kiss after this, enjoying the soft silkiness of his lips. I then licked the underside of his chin and he groaned. I wondered if he would even make it through the rest of the song."

"But if you insist, babe, the challenge delights me. The more you resist, babe, the more it excites me. And no one I've kissed, babe, ever fights me again. If you're on my list, it's just a question of when. When I get a yen, then baby, Amen. I'm counting to ten, and then…"

"Now I wondered if I would make it through the last verse!"

"I'm gonna love you like nothing you've known, I'm gonna love you and you all alone. Sooner is better than later, but lover, I'll hover, I'll plan. This time I'm not only getting, I'm holding my man."

"This ended with your typical movie kiss, complete with clothing removal. The rest I don't think you need to know about."

Nick and Esme by this time were cuddled together; after all it was a rather x-rated story in its way. They heard applause and Jill jumped.

"So you tricked me, hmm?"

"I had to, love. But it was fun anyway, wasn't it?"

And Cary smiled.


	19. The End or The Beginning?

Finally, we reach the end. Yes, it took forever but I hope it was worth the wait. This story has been a labor of love and I thank everyone who read and reviewed and everyone who read and didn't review. It will be archived at my site and at fk fanfic 2 as well as the Yahoo group. Enjoy and take care. Have a Happy Holiday.

**CHAPTER 19**

"I didn't see you there. How long have you've been standing there?" Asked Jill.

"From _Kiss of Fire_."

Esme started to laugh and laugh. "Poor Jill, alors."

Nick smiled as well.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Like a ton of bricks fell on me, but I'm better. You want to drive me to get my car?" He asked Jill.

"Sure."

They left and Nick turned to Esme.

"So, do you want to go to my car and see the new place? You can spend the night?"

A smile from the other. "Oui."

They walked into the garage where it was dark and Nick started his Caddy.

"Nice car," commented Esme, with a bit of sarcasm.

"1967 Coupe de Ville. Largest trunk space of any auto made."

Esme gave a grin in acknowledgement.

"Ever have to use it?"

"Occasionally. One very memorable occasion was when my partner wrecked it."

"He wrecked your car?" said Esme aghast.

"Someone had cut the brake line, so I couldn't hold it too much against him. I gave a good impression of why they call me the Knightmare though." This said with a wry laugh which Esme joined.

Soon enough they were at the Center.

"Nanette's Place? Why?"

"From Natalie for obvious reasons—her caring, her medical knowledge, my debt to her. And to Janette for the former mortal life she led. I think she would approve."

Esme nodded, knowing Janette had been forced into prostitution back then.

The Center was beautiful, to Nick's point of view. All the lines in the parking spaces, the new vans, the painted mural done by children from the downtrodden Fourth Street area. They exited and entered through Nick's private back door. Up the stairs they went and Nick unlocked the second lock. Esme stepped through and gave a totally modern whistle.

"It's you," she said of the starkness of the place. She strolled around looking at the antiques and other items Nick had collected during the centuries. "Very nice, I approve. Not that you care."

"Oh," said Nick, sidling up to her, "I might. But let me show you downstairs."

Out the front door and down the stairs and into the different offices.

"This room is the day room and this is the child care area. Over here are bedrooms—each one individual with two beds. Cots are available if needed, as are cribs. Notice the kitchen—very state of the art and the pantry is very well stocked so no minestrone and Cranapple juice with bread for them."

"Minestrone and Cranapple juice?"

"That's what I was told they serve at the SAFES shelter out on Baldini Road, right up the road from the Day Labor gathering point. It's located on the grounds of the State Hospital."

A shudder from one who remembered the Bastille and how they treated insanity at one time.

"This is the tutoring center," Nick continued with his tour. "Thank you for the computers by the way. We have teachers who will come in and help with homework and also the latest programs for vocational purposes. Off this way is the voc rehab center to help those who need job skills or updating. This is the job placement office."

Esme was amazed.

"This place is astounding, Nick. It must have cost all of your fortune!"

Nick shook his head. "Not even close. I have funding for at least my lifetime," he joked.

A laugh from the female vampire.

"So, you said something about showing me the bedroom?"

"I did?"

"Well, words to that effect, oui?"

"Yes, words to that effect."

Back upstairs and into the huge bedroom with the black satin sheets.

That early morning, around 6am, Nick rose and took his shower, which Esme joined. It was a long shower and Nick was glad of the huge hot water heater. By 7:30 they were ready—tired but awake and fed.

They watched the early morning shows and then went downstairs to open the door to the first arrivals. People of all races, persuasions, and walks of life started to stream in. The new receptionists had them all fill out forms to be filed later and by mid afternoon, everyone was settled.

Nick was proud.

Dinner that night was a celebration with the backers and residents all eating together. The feast was a turkey dinner, for this was an evening of thanks giving. Midway through, around 8:30pm, Cary showed up with Jill.

"This is very nice. I don't say this often but good job chap. Good job." A snicker that couldn't be helped. "Even if they are mortals."

Jill punched him lightly on the arm. "Be nice. This is really super Nick. The bees' knees and the cats meow. You are a real good egg."

Proud did not cover Nick's feelings, elated perhaps. Nick finally felt he had found a purpose, for a while at least. He gave thanks to Above for Gilda. Who she was, he may never know. But she set him on a new life and a new resolve.

**THE END……?**

**Authors note**: thanks to my reviewers again. Especially Kyra.

My thesaurus and dictionaries and spell checker.

My beta reader—my son, Leon.

James Parriott and Barney Cohan for their wonderful show

Reno NV which I do love

Geraint Wyn Davis for his nuanced portrayal of my favorite television character. Thanks.

Susan Garrett—the dean of Forever Knight writers. The debt cannot be paid enough but here are some virtual chocolates for you.

The Reno Vamps have more stories coming. This is the first but not the last and it will not take almost 18 months to finish one.

Many many thanks to all

Kayla Gayle

Thanksgiving 2004


End file.
